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IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-S) 


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Photographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

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^(^ 
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CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiquas 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notaa/Notas  tachniquaa  at  bibliographiquas 


Tha  Instituta  has  attamptad  to  obtain  tho  bast 
original  copy  availabia  for  filming.  Faaturas  of  this 
copy  which  may  ba  bibliographically  uniqua. 
which  may  altar  any  of  tha  imagaa  in  tha 
reproduction,  or  which  may  significantly  change 
tha  usual  method  of  filming,  are  checked  below. 


D 


D 


n 


D 


Coloured  covers/ 
Couverture  de  couleur 


r~n    Covers  damaged/ 


Couverture  endommagie 


Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaur^  et/ou  pelliculAe 


r~n    Cover  title  missing/ 


La  titre  de  couverture  manque 


Coloured  maps/ 

Cartes  gtographiquas  en  couleur 


Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)/ 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 


r~~]    Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 


D 


Planches  et/ou  illustrations  9n  couleur 

Bound  with  other  material/ 
Relii  avec  d'autres  documents 

Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion    ■ 
along  interior  margin/ 

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diatorsion  l«  long  de  la  marge  intirieure 

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have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
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mais,  lorsque  cela  Atait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  iti  filmtes. 

Additional  comments:/ 
Commentairas  supplimentaires; 


L'Institut  a  microfilm*  la  meilleur  axamplaire 
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point  de  vue  bibliographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier 
une  image  reproduito,  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
modification  dans  la  mAthoJe  normale  de  filmage 
sont  indiquis  ci-dessous. 

□    Coloured  pages/ 
Pages  de  couleur 

□    Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommagies 

r~~|    Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 


Pages  restauries  et/ou  pelliculiea 

Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxe< 
Pages  dicolories,  tacheties  ou  piquitts 

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Showthrough/ 
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Qualiti  inigale  de  {'impression 

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Only  edition  available/ 
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I    yl  Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 

r~n  Pages  detached/ 

FT]  Showthrough/ 

r~~|  Quality  of  print  varies/ 

I      I  Includfti.  supplementary  material/ 

r~~1  Only  edition  available/ 


0 


Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
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ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Les  pages  totalement  ou  partiellement 
obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d'errata,  une  pelure, 
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This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  film*  au  taux  de  rMuc  ton  indiquA  ci-dessous. 


10X 

14X 

18X 

22X 

26X 

30X 

y 

12X 


16X 


20X 


24X 


28X 


32X 


wmmmmm 


"— F 


The  copy  fiirntd  h«r«  hat  b««n  r«produc«d  thanks 
to  the  gonorosity  of: 

Douglas  Library 
Quean's  University 


L'examplaire  filnriA  fut  raproduit  grice  A  la 
gAnirosit*  da: 

Douglas  Library 
Queen's  University 


The  images  appearing  here  are  the  best  quality 
possible  considering  the  condition  end  legibility 
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filming  contract  specifications. 


Las  Images  suivantes  ont  4t4  reproduites  avec  ie 
plus  grand  »oln,  compte  tenu  de  ie  condition  et 
de  la  netteti  de  rexempiaire  f limA,  et  en 
conformiti  evec  ies  conditions  du  contrat  de 
fiimage. 


Original  copies  in  printed  paper  covers  are  filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  and  anding  on 
the  last  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  last  pagt.  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  impression. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  — »>  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 


Les  exemplairee  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprlmte  sont  fllmis  en  commen9ant 
par  ie  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
darnlAre  pege  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'Impreesion  ou  d'iliustration,  soit  par  la  second 
plat,  salon  Ie  caa.  Tous  les  autres  exemplaires 
originaux  sont  filmte  en  commen9ant  par  la 
pramlAre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'Impreesion  ou  d'iliustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  dernlAre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 

Un  dee  symboles  suivants  apparattra  sur  la 
dernidre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  Ie 
cas:  Ie  symbols  -^  signifie  "A  SUIVRE  ",  Ie 
symbols  ▼  signifie  "FIN". 


Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Thoss  too  larffe  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposurs  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
methoa: 


Les  certes,  plenches,  tableeux,  etc.,  peuvent  Atre 
filmte  A  des  taux  de  rMuction  diff Arents. 
Lorsque  Ie  document  est  trop  grend  pour  Atre 
reproduit  en  un  ssul  clichA,  11  est  film*  A  partir 
da  I'angle  supArieur  gauche,  de  gauche  A  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  sn  prenant  la  nombre 
d'images  nicessairs.  Les  diagrammes  suivantat 
illustrent  la  mAthode. 


1 

2 

3 

1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

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..  A  \l  i'  >     \i  i 


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Kn. 


.r. 


^ 


II 


\    i 


THE   YOUNG  VOYAGEURS, 


BOY  HUNTERS  IN  THE  NORTH 


\r 


CAPTAIN  MAYNE  REID, 

AnraoB  or  "Tm  Bi>t  uminMi-'  —Cmm  Oshbt  Uoum,'  ito* 


WITH  TWELVE  ILLU8TBATION8  BT   W.  HABTBT 


NEW    YORK: 
JAMES    MILLER,    PUBLISHEB, 

779  Broadway. 

1882, 


LP 


?K^i{'^.R:i-6yc    i(t2 


Xatered  acconliDg  to  act  of  Congress,  in  tbe  year  ISSO;  by 

TICKNOR,   REED,   AND   FIELDS, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  tbe  District  _ourt  of  tbe  District  of  Massacbasettt 


Nkw  York,  Jannary  Ist,  1869. 
ItesRs.  FiEnns,  Osoooo,  &  Co. :  — 

I  accept  the  terms  iffered,  and  hereby  concede  to  you  tbe  exclnrfTe  ripht  of 
pnblicatinn,  in  the  Vnlted  Stotes,  of  sQ  my  jUTenile  Talt;s  of  Adventnre.  kDotra 

w  Boys'  Novels. 

HAYN£   REID 


EfND  FATHER, 
«ENTLE  AND  AFFECTIONATI^  MOTHFl, 

ACCEPT  THIS  TRIBUTE   OF 
A  gov's  GBATITODB. 

MAVNE  REID 


PBEFAGE. 


1m  tht  *'Bo7  Hunteri**  the  Author  endeaTcnd  to  fllcttntt 
fhd  ySnifia  of  the  temperate  lone  of  the  Ameiicen  Conthient 
In  doing  this,  howerer,  many  animals,  and  partioularly  that 
Interesting  class  known  as  the  "  far*bearlng  animals,**  could  not 
be  Jitroduced  without  **  bringing  the  mountain  to  Miliomet." 
To  aToid  this,  the  "B07  Hunters"— under  the  name  of  the 
"Toung  Voyageurs"— hare  made  a  grand  journey  through  the 
*<  ftar-oountries,"  where, »%  will  be  seen,  they  hate  met  with  nearly 
■n  the  wild  creatures  thiit  inhabit  that  cold  and  desolate  region. 
The  Author  begs  leare  here  to  repeat  that  he  is  "  not  conscious 
of  having  taken  any  liberty,  for  the  sake  ot  effect,  with  the  laws 
of  nature —with  its  fauna  or  its  /lora.  Neither  plant  nor  tree, 
bird  nor  mammal,  has  been  pressed  into  sorrice  beyond  the  Umite 
of  ite geographical  range;  although,  in  illustrating  the  habits  or 
history  of  God's  wild  creatures,  he  has  often  selected  only  their 
more  peculiar  characteristics.'* 

If  tiie  "  Young  Voyageurs  "  receite  only  at  much  appfanise  m 
their  new  character,  as  they  did  in  that  of  the  '*  Boy  Hunters*** 
the  Author  will  hare  no  reason  to  complain  of  his  *<  boy  pobUe.** 

LoHSOX,  November 1 18SS. 


COyXENTS. 


L   THE  FUB  C0UNTRIB8,       .       .  •       .  •     f 

n.   THE  TOUNO  VOTAOEUBS,  .       .  IV 

m.    THE  TBUMFETEB  SWAN  AND  BALD  BAQU,      .    M 

IV.   THE  SWANS  OF  AMERICA,        .      .       .       .       :       44 

V.   A  SWAN-HUNT  BY  TOBCHUGHT,       ....   01 

VL   ••CASTAWAY,»»  64 

TIL    A  BBIOGB  OF  BUCKSKIN, 71 

ym.    DECOYING  THE  « GOATS,**   ....  .      « 

IZ.   A  *<FABTBIDGE  DANCE,'*        .  .  .   tl 

X   BASIL  AND  THE  BISON-BULL,   ...  M 

XL   THEBE  CUBIOUS  TBEES,  ....  M 

Zn.    HOW  TO  BUILD  A  BABK  CANOE,  .      .     lU 

Zm.   THE  CHAIN  OF  LAKES,    ....  IM 

ZIY.    WAPITI,  WOLVES,  AND  WOLVEBENB,         .       .     US 

XV.   A  PAIB  OF  DEEP  DIVEBS,      .....  147 

XVL   A  GBAND  SUNDAT  DINNER,  .      .  .     IM 

V 


« 


% 


C0MTEKT8. 


XVII. 

inn. 

ZIX. 

XXL 

ZJIL 

ZXIU 

XX2V. 

XXV. 

XXTL 

xjyiL 

JXVUL 

XXIX. 

XXX. 

XXXL 

XXXIL 

XXXUL 

xxxiy. 

XXXV. 

XXXVL 

IXXVIL 

Kxxvm 

UXIX. 


THE  MABMOTS  OF  AMEBICA,    ...  *68 

THE  BLAIREAU,  TAWNIES,  AMD  LE0FABD8,  178 

AS  ODD  SOBT  OF  DECOT-DUCK,   ...  107 

THE  DUCKS  OF  AMEBICA,          ....  900 

THE  SHBIEE  AND  THE  HUMMING-BIBDS,  SM 

THE  FISH-HAWK, SIS 

THE  OSFBAT  AND  HIS  TTBANT,     .      .  99B 

THE  VOTAGE  nrrEBBUFTED,         .       .       .  »1 

FISHING  ITNDEB  THE  ICE,         ....  937 

AN  ODD  ALABM, 9a 

ENCOUNTEB  WITH  A  MOOSE.   ....  998 

LIFE  IN  A  LOG-HUT, 968 

TBAVELLING  ON  SNOW-SHOES,       ...  971 

THE  BABBEN  GBOUNDS 980 

THE  BOGK-TBIFB, 9IM 

THE  FOLAB  HABE  AND  GBEAT  SNOWT  OWL,  990 

THE  JUMFINO  MOUSE  AND  THE  EBMINB,  308 

THE  ABCTir  FOX  AND  WHITE  WOLF,        .  318 
THE  JEBFALCON  AND  THE  WHITE  GBOUSB,  398 

THE  HABE,  LYNX,  AND  GOLDEN  EAGLE,  331 

THE  "ALABM  BIBD  "  AND  THE  CABIBOU,  338 

A  BATTLE  WITH  WOLVES,         ...  SIT 

END  OF  THE  "VOYAGE."         <       .      .       .  W 


't^ 


THE  YOUNG  V0TAGEUR8. 


CHAPTER  L 


THE  FUK  COUNTBIES. 


BcY  READEB,  jou  have  heard  of  the  Hudson's  Bay 
Compauy?  Ten  to  one,  you  have  worn  a  piece  of 
fur,  which  it  has  provided  for  jou  ;  if  not,  your  pretty 
little  sister  has  —  in  her  muff,  or  her  hoa,  or  as  a 
trimming  for  her  winter  dress.  Would  you  like  to 
know  something  of  the  country  whence  come  these 
furs  ?  —  of  the  animals  whose  backs  have  been 
stripped  to  obtain  them  ?  As  I  feel  certain  that  you 
and  I  are  old  friends,  I  make  bold  to  answer  for  you, 
Yes.  Come,  thenl  let  us  journey  together  to  the 
«Fur  Countries;"  let  us  cross  them  from  south  to 
north. 

A  vast  journey  it  will  be.  It  will  cost  us  manj 
thousand  miles  of  travel.  We  ^hall  find  neither  rail- 
way train,  nor  steamboat,  nor  etage  coach,  to  carry  us 
on  our  way.  We  shall  not  even  have  the  help  of  a 
horse.  For  us  no  hotel  shall  spr«^ad  its  luxurious 
board;  no  road-side  inn  shall  hang  out  its  inviting 
sign  and  '^  clean  beds  "  no  roof  of  any  kind  shall 


If) 


THS  FUB  COUKXBIES* 


offer  us  its  hospitable  shelter.  Our  table  shall  be  a 
rock,  a  log,  or  the  earth  itself;  our  lodging  a  tent; 
and  our  bed  the  skin  of  a  wild  beast  Such  are  the 
best  accoinmodatiMis  we  can  expect  upon  our  journey* 
Are  70U  still  ready  to  undertake  it  ?  Does  the  pros> 
pect  not  deter  you  ? 

No,  I  hear  you  exclaim.  I  shall  be  satisfied  with 
the  table — what  care  I  for  mahogany?  With  the 
lodging — I  can  tent  like  an  Arab.  With  the  bed-« 
fling  feathers  to  the  wind  1 

Enough,  brave  boy  I  you  shall  go  with  me  to  the 
wild  regions  of  the  "north-west,"  to  the  far  "fur 
countries"  of  America.  But,  first — a  word  about 
the  land  through  which  we  are  going  to  travel. 

Take  down  your  Atlas.  Bend  your  eye  upon  the 
map  of  North  America.  Note  two  large  islands  — 
oae  upon  the  right  side,  Newfoundland ;  another  up<»i 
the  left,  Vancouver.  Draw  a  line  from  one  to  the 
other ;  it  will  nearly  bisect  the  continent  North  of 
that  line  you  behold  a  vast  territory.  How.  vast? 
You  may  take  your  scissors,  and  clip  fifty  Englands 
out  of  it  1  There  are  lakes  there  in  which  you  might 
drown  England,  or  make  an  island  of  it  1  Now  you 
may  form  some  idea  of  the  vastness  of  that  region 
known  as  the  "  fur  countries."  ^  ,. 

Will  you  believe  me  when  I  tell  you  that  all  this 
immense  tract  is  a  wilderness — a  howling  wilder- 
ness, if  you  like  a  poetical  name?  It  is  even  soi 
From  north  to  south,  from  ocean  to  ocean,  throughout 
all  that  vast  domain,  there  is  neither  town  nor  village 
—  hardly  any  thing  that  can  be  dignified  with  the 
name  <^  "  settlement"    The  only  signs  of  civilisation 


THE  VVh    CGWXrRlZi,. 


11 


to  be  8(»ec  are  the  "  forts,*"  or  trading  posts,  of  the  IIud> 
soil's  Bay  Company;  and  these  "signs"  are  few  and 
far  —  hundreds  of  miles  —  between^  For  inhabitants 
the  country  has  less  than  ten  thousand  white  men,  the 
emplotfis  of  tha  Company ;  and  its  native  people  are 
Indians  of  many  tribes,  living  far  apart,  few  in  num- 
bers, subsisting  by  the  chase,  and  half  starving  for  at 
least  a  third  part  of  every  year  1  In  truth,  the  terri- 
tory can  hardly  be  called  "  inhabited."  There  is  not 
a  man  to  every  ten  miles ;  and  in  many  parts  of  it, 
you  may  travel  hundreds  of  miles  without  seeing  a 
face,  red,  white,  or  black ! 

The  physical  aspect  is,  therefore,  entirely  wild.  It 
is  very  different  in  different  parts  of  the  territory. 
One  tract  is  peculiar.  It  has  been  long  known  as  the 
**  Barren  Grounds."  It  is  a  tract  of  vast  extent.  It 
lies  north-west  from  the  shores  oi  Hudson's  Bay,  ex- 
tending nearly  to  the  Mackenzie  River.  Its  rocks  are 
primitive.  It  is  a  land  of  hills  and  valleys  —  of 
deep,  dark  lakes  and  sharp-running  streams.  It  is  a 
woodless  region.  No  timber  is  found  there  that  de- 
serves the  name.  No  trees  but  glandular  dwarf 
birches,  willows,  and  black  spruce,  small  and  stunted. 
Even  these  only  grow  in  isolated  valle3r8.  More  gen- 
erally the  surface  is  covered  with  coarse  sand, —  the 
dibris  of  granite  or  quartz  rock,  —  upon  which  no 
vegetable,  save  the  lichen  or  the  moss,  can  find  life 
and  nourishment.  In  one  respect  these  "  Barren 
Grounds  "  are  unlike  the  deserts  of  Africa ;  they  are 
well  watered.  In  almost  every  valley  there  is  a  lake ) 
and  though  many  of  these  are  landlocked,  yet  do  they 
(ontain  fish  of  several  species.  Sometimes  these  lakis 


12 


THE  rUB  C0UNTBIE8. 


communicate  vnih  each  other  bj  means  of  rapid  and 
turbulent  streams  passing  through  naiTow  goiges 
and  lines  of  those  connected  lakes  form  the  grt^at  riv 
ers  of  the  district. 

Such  is  a  large  portion  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  terri  • 
tory.  Most  of  the  extensive  peninsula  of  Labrador 
partakes  of  a  similar  character ;  and  there  are  other 
like  tracts  west  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  range  in  this 
"  Russian  possessions." 

Yet  these  "  Barren  Grounds  **  have  their  denizens. 
Nature  has  formed  animals  that  delight  to  dwell  there^ 
and  that  are  never  found  in  more  fertile  regions.  Two 
ruminating  creatures  find  sustenance  upon  the  mosses 
and  lichens  that  icover  their  cold  rocks :  they  are  the 
caribou  (reindeer)  and  the  musk-oz.  These,  In  theii 
turn,  become  the  food  and  subsistence  of  preying 
creatures.  The  wolf,  in  aU  its  varieties  of  gray,  black, 
white,  pied,  and  dusky,  follows  upon  their  traiL  Thb 
"brown  bear"  —  a  large  species,  nearly  resembling 
the  "  grizzly  "  —  is  found  only  in  the  Barren  Grounds « 
und  the  great  "  Polar  bear"  comes  within  their  box 
durs,  but  the  latter  is  a  dweller  upon  their  shorev 
alone,  and  finds  his  food  among  the  finny  tribes  of  the 
seas  that  surround  them.  In  marshy  ponds,  existing 
bere  and  there,  the  musk-rat  {Fiber  zihethicm)  builds 
liis  hou£(e,  like  that  of  his  larger  cousin,  the  beaver 
Upon  the  waters  edge  he  finds  subsistence;  but  his 
natural  enemy, the  wolverene  {Guh  luscus),  skulks  in 
the  same  neighborhood.  The  "  Polar  hare  "  lives  upon 
tlie  leaves  and  twigs  of  the  dwarf  birch-tree ;  and  this, 
transformed  into  its  own  white  flesh,  becomes  the  food 
of  the  Arctic  fox.    The  herbage,  sparse  though  it  be^ 


THE  7UB   C0UNTBIE8. 


I« 


does  not  grow  in  vain.  The  seeds  fall  to  the  earth, 
but  they  are  not  suffered  to  decay.  They  are  gathered 
by  the  little  lemmings  and  meadow-mice  {arvicolai)f 
who,  in  their  turn,  become  the  prey  of  two  species  o£ 
mtutelitUe,  the  ermine  and  vison  weasels.  Have  the 
fish  of  the  lakes  no  enemy?  Yes  —  a  terrible  one 
in  the  Canada  otter.  The  mink-weasel,  too,  pursuet 
them ;  and  in  summer,  the  ospray,  the  great  pelican, 
the  cormorant,  and  the  white-headed  eagle. 

These  are  the  fauna  of  the  Barren  Grounds.  Man 
rarely  ventures  within  their  boundaries.  The  wretch- 
ed creatures  who  find  a  living  there  are  the  Esqui- 
maux on  their  coasts,  and  a  few  Chippewa  Indians  in 
the  interior,  who  hunt  the  caribou,  and  are  known  as 
*'  caribou-eaters."  Other  Indians  enter  them  only  in 
summer,  in  search  of  game,  or  journeying  from  point 
to  point ;  and  so  perilous  are  these  joumeyings,  that 
numbers  frequently  perish  by  the  way.  There  are 
no  white  men  in  the  Barren  Grounds.  The  "  Com- 
pany" has  no  commerce  there.  No  fort  is  estab- 
lished in  them ;  so  scarce  are  the  fur-bearing  animals 
of  these  parts,  their  skins  would  not  repay  the  ex 
pense  of  a  **  trad'ng  post." 

Far  different  are  the  "wooded  tracts"  of  the  fw 
countries.  These  1'"  mostly  in  the  southern  and  cen- 
tral regions  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  territory.  There 
are  found  the  valuable  beaver,  and  the  wolverene  that 
preys  upon  it  There  dwells  the  American  hare, 
with  its  enemy,  the  Canada  lynx.  There  are  the 
squirrels,  and  the  beautiful  martens  (sables)  that  hunt 
them  from  tree  to  tree.  There  are  found  the  foxes 
sf  every  variety*  the  re4  the  cross*  and  the  rare  aad 


TT 


14 


THE  FUR   COUNTBIES. 


higlilj-prized  silver  fox  (VuJpes  argentaitus)^  \rhoM 
shining  skin  ssUs  for  its  weight  in  goldl  There,  t00| 
the  black  bear  ( Ursus  Americanus)  yields  its  fine 
coat  to  adorn  the  winter  carriage,  the  holsters  of  the 
dragoon,  and  the  shako  of  the  grenadier.  There  the 
fur-bearing  animals  exist  in  greatest  plenty,  and  many 
others  whose  skins  are  valuable  in  commerce,  as  the 
moose,  the  wapiti,  and  \e  wood-bison. 

But  there  Is  also  a  "  prairie "  district  in  the  fiir 
countries.  The  great  table  prairies  of  North  America, 
that  slope  eastward  from  the  Rocky  Mountains,  also 
extend  northward  into  the  Hudson's  Bay  territory. 
They  gradually  grow  narrower,  however,  as  you  pro* 
ceed  farther  noith,  until,  on  reaching  the  latitude  of 
the  Great  Slave  Lake,  they  end  altogether.  This 
'* prairie  land"  has  its  peculiar  animals.  Upon  it 
roams  the  buffalo,  the  prong-homed  antelope,  and  the 
mule-deer.  There,  too,  may  be  seen  the  "  barking 
wolf"  and  the  "  swift  fox."  It  is  the  favorite  home 
of  the  marmots,  and  the  gaufires  or  sand-rats;  and 
there,  too,  the  noblest  of  animals,  the  horse,  runs 
wild. 

West  of  this  prairie  tract  is  a  region  of  far  differ- 
ent aspect  —  the  region  of  tho  Rocky  Mountains. 
This  stupendoui>  liain,  sometimes  called  the  Andes 
of  North  America,  continues  throughout  the  fur 
countries  from  their  southern  limits  to  the  shores 
of  the  Arctic  Sea.  Some  of  its  peaks  overlook  the 
wafers  of  that  sea  itself,  towering  up  near  the  coast. 
Many  of  these,  even  in  southern  latitudes,  carry 
the  "  eternal  snow."  This  •*  mountain-chain  "  is,  in 
places,  of  great  breadth.     Deep  valleys  lie  in  its 


THK  FUB   COUNTRl.tft. 


» 


embrace,  maiij  of  which  have  never  been  visited  by 
man.  Some  are  desolate  and  dreaiy;  others  are 
oases  of  Vegetation,  which  fascinate  the  traveller 
whose  fortune  it  has  been,  after  toiling  among  naked 
rocks,  to  gaze  upon  their  smiling  fertilitj.  These 
lovely  wilds  are  the  favorite  home  of  many  strange 
animals.  The  argali,  or  mountain-sheep,  with  his 
huge  curving  horns,  is  seen  there;  and  the  shaggy 
wild  goat  bounds  along  the  steepest  cliffs.  The  black 
bear  wanders  through  the  wooded  ravines ;  and  his 
fiercer  congener,  the  "grizzly,"— i- the  most  dreaded  of 
all  American  aniTnals,  —  drags  his  huge  body  along 
the  rocky  declivities. 

Having  crossed  the  mountains,  the  fur  countries 
extend  westward  to  the  Pacific.  There  you  encoun- 
ter barren  plains,  treeless  and  waterless ;  rapid  rivers, 
that  foam  through  deep,  rock-bound  channels ;  and  a 
country  altogether  rougher  in  aspect,  and  more  moun- 
tainous, than  that  lying  to  the  east  of  the  great  chain. 
A  warmer  atmosphere  prevails  as  you  approach  the 
Pacific,  and  in  some  places  forests  of  tall  trees  cover 
the  earth.  In  these  are  found  most  of  the  fur-bearing 
animals ;  and,  on  account  of  the  greater  warmth  of 
the  climate,  the  true  felidm  —  the  long-tailed  cats  — 
here  wander  much  farther  north  than  upon  the  east- 
em  side  of  the  continent.  Even  so  far  north  as  the 
forests  of  Oregon,  these  appear  in  the  forms  of  the 
eougar  {FelU  concolor)  and  the  ounce  (Felis  onza.) 

But  it  is  not  our  intention  at  present  to  cross  the 
Bbcky  Mountains.  Our  journey  will  lie  altogether 
on  the  eastern  side  of  that  great  chain.   It  will  extend 


16 


TH»  FUB  COUNTRII^ 


from  the  frontiers  of  civilization  to  the  shores  of  tho 
Arctic  S«A.  It  is  a  long  and  perilous  journey,  boy 
reader ;  but  as  we  have  made  up  our  minds  to  it,  let 
OS  wapto  no  more  time  in  talking,  but  set  forth  at 
Ton  are  ready?    Hurrahl 


ms  Touira  voia^oeiibs 


11 


CHAPTER  n. 


THE  YOUNQ  VOYAGBUBS. 


TnzRB  is  a  canoe  upon  the  waters  of  Red  River-* 
Bed  River  of  the  north.  Tt  is  near  the  source  of  the 
stream,  but  passing  downward.  It  is  a  small  canoe, 
a  frail  structure  of  birch  bark,  and  contains  only  four 
persons.  They  are  all  young — the  eldest  of  them 
evidently  not  over  nineteen  years  of  age,  and  the 
youngest  about  fifteen. 

The  eldest  is  nearly  full  grown,  though  his  body 
and  limbs  have  not  yet  assumed  the  muscular  develop* 
ment  of  manhood.  His  complexion  is  dark,  nearly 
olive.  His  hair  is  jet  black,  straight  as  an  Indian's, 
and  long.  His  eyes  are  large  and  brilliant,  and  his 
features  prominent.  His  countenance  expresses  cour- 
age,  and  his  well-set  jaws  betoken  firmness  and  reso- 
lution. He  does  not  belie  his  looks,  for  he  possesses 
these  qualifications  in  a  high  degree.  There  is  a 
gravity  in  his  manner  somewhat  rare  in  one  so  young; 
yet  it  is  not  the  result  of  a  morose  disposition,  but  a 
subdued  temperament,  produced  by  modesty,  good 
sense,  and  much  experience.  Neither  has  it  the  air 
of  stupidity.  No :  you  could  easily  tell  that  the  mind 
of  this  youth,  if  once  roused,  would  exhibit  both  en- 
ergy  and  alertness.  His  quiet  manner  has  a  far  dif« 
forest  expression.    It  is  an  air  of  coolness  and  oonfi* 


lA 


THE  TOUMQ   VOTAOEUBa. 


' 


denne  which  tells  jou  he  has  met  with  dangen 
in  the  past,  and  would  not  fear  to  encounter  them 
afi^n.  It  is  an  expression  peculiar,  I  think,  to  the 
hunters  of  the  "  Far  West,"  —  those  men  who  dwell 
amidst  dangers  in  the  wild  regions  of  the  great 
prairies.  Their  solitary  mode  of  life  hegets  this  ex- 
pression. They  are  often  for  months  without  the 
company  of  a  creature  with  whom  they  may  oon* 
▼erse — months  without  beholding  a  human  faoa 
They  live  alone  with  Nature,  surrounded  by  her  ma- 
jestic forms.  These  awe  them  into  habits  of  silence. 
Such  was,  in  point  of  fact,  the  case  with  the  youth 
whom  we  have  been  describing.  He  had  hunted 
much,  though  ndt  as  a  professional  hunter.  With  him 
the  chase  had  been  followed  merely  as  a  pastime ;  but 
its  pursuit  had  brought  him  into  situations  of  peril, 
and  in  contact  with  Nature  in  her  wild  solitudes. 
Young  as  he  was,  he  had  journeyed  over  the  grand 
prairies,  and  through  the  pathless  forests  of  the  West. 
He  had  slain  the  bear  and  the  buffalo,  the  wildcat 
and  the  cougar.  These  experiences  had  made  their 
impression  upon  his  mind,  and  stamped  his  counte- 
nance with  that  air  of  gravity  we  have  noticed. 

The  second  of  the  youths  whom  we  shall  describ« 
is  very  different  in  appearance.  He  is  of  blonde 
oomplexion,  rather  pale,  with  fair  silken  hair  that 
waves  gently  down  his  cheeks,  and  fails  upon  his 
shoulders.  He  is  far  from  robust.  On  the  contrary, 
his  form  is  thin  and  delicate.  It  is  not  the  delicacy 
of  feebleness  or  iU  health,  but  cnly  a  body  of  sh'ghter 
build.  The  manner  'in  which  he  handles  his  oar 
shows  that  he  possesses  both  health  and  strc^ngtb, 


TUB  TOUNO  VOTAOBUSB. 


ti 


tboLgh  neither  in  such  a  h!gh  degree  as  the  dark 
youth.  His  face  expresses,  perhaps,  a  larger  amount 
of  intellect,  and  it  is  a  countenance  that  would  strike 
you  as  more  open  and  communicative.  The  eye  ia 
blue  and  mild,  and  the  brow  is  marked  by  the  paleness 
of  study  and  habits  of  continued  thought.  These  in* 
dications  are  no  more  than  just,  for  the  fair>haired 
youth  it  a  student,  and  one  of  no  ordinary  attaiik* 
menta.  Although  only  seventeen  years  of  age,  he  if 
already  well  versed  in  the  natural  sciences;  and 
many  a  graduate  of  Oxford  or  Cambridge  would  but 
ill  compare  with  him.  The  former  might  excel  in  the 
knowledge  —  if  we  can  dignify  it  by  that  name  —  of 
the  laws  of  scansion,  or  in  the  composition  of  Greek 
idyls;  but  in  all  that  constitutes  rtal  knowledge  he 
would  prove  but  an  idle  theorist,  a  dreamy  imbecile 
alongside  our  practical  young  scholar  of  the  West. 

The  third  and  youngest  of  the  party — taking 
them  as  they  sit  from  stem  to  bow —  differs  in  many 
respects  from  both  those  described.  Ue  has  neither 
the  gravity  of  the  first,  nor  yet  the  intellectuality  of 
the  second.  His  face  is  round,  and  full,  and  ruddy. 
It  is  bright  and  smiling  in  its  expression.  His  eye 
dances  merrily  in  his  head,  and  its  glance  falls  upon 
every  thing.  His  lips  are  hardly  ever  at  rest  They 
are  either  engaged  in  making  words  —  for  he  talks 
almost  incessantly  —  or  else  contracting  and  expand- 
ing with  smiles  and  joyous  laughter.  His  cap  is 
jantily  set,  and  his  fine  brown  curls,  hanging  against 
the  rich  roseate  skin  of  his  cheeks,  give  to  his  coud* 
tenance  an  expression  of  extrsme  health  and  boyish 
beauty.    His  merry  laugh  and  free  air  tell  you  he  is 


30 


THE  TOUNG    VCTAOEUBB. 


not  the  boy  for  books.  He  is  not  much  of  a  Lantef 
either.  In  fact,  he  is  not  particularly  given  to  any 
thing — one  of  those  easy  natures  who  take  the 
world  as  it  comes,  look  upon  the  bright  side  of  every 
thing,  without  getting  sufficiently  interested  to  excel 
Id  any  thing. 

These  three  youths  were  dressed  nearly  alike.  Th« 
eldest  wore  the  costume,  as  near  as  may  be,  of  a 
backwoods  hunter— •  a  tunic-like  hunting-shirt,  of 
dressed  buckskin,  leggings  and  moccasons  of  the  same 
material,  and  all  —  shirt,  leggings,  and  moccasons  — 
handsomely  braided  and  embroidered  with  stained 
quills  of  the  porcupine.  The  cape  of  the  shirt  was 
tastefully  fringed,  and  so  was  the  skirt,  as  well  as  the 
seams  of  the  moccasons.  On  his  head  was  a  hairy 
cap  of  raccoon  skin,  and  the  tail  of  the  animal,  with 
its  dark,  transverse  bars,  hung  down  behind  like  the 
drooping  plume  of  a  helmet  Around  his  shoulders 
were  two  leathern  belts  that  crossed  each  other  upon 
his  breast  One  of  these  slung  a  bullet  pouch,  cov- 
ered with  a  violet-green  skin  that  glittered  splendidly 
in  the  sun.  It  was  from  the  head  of  the  "wood- 
duck  "  (Anas  sponsa)j  the  most  beautiful  bird  of  its 
tribe.  By  the  other  strap  was  suspended  a  large 
crescent-shaped  horn  taken  from  the  head  o(  an  Ope- 
lousas  bull,  and  carved  with  various  ornamental  de- 
Tices.  Other  smaller  implements  hung  from  the  belta^ 
attached  by  leathern  thongs:  there  was  a  picker,  a 
wiper,  and  a  steel  for  striking  fire  with.  A  third  belt 
-—a  broad  stout  one  of  alligator  leather— *  encircled 
the  youth's  waist  To  «his  was  fastened  a  holster, 
and  the  shining  but  of  a  pistol  coul<7  be  seen  protnid* 


*HE   TOUNO   YOTAGEintS. 


II 


leg  out;  a  hunting-knife  of  the  kind  denominated 
'^bowie'*  hanging  over  the  left  hip,  completed  hii 
**  arms  and  accoutrements." 

The  second  of  the  youths  was  dressed,  as  already 
stated,  in  a  somewhat  sinilar  manner,  though  his  ac- 
coutrements were  not  of  so  warlike  a  character.  Like 
the  other,  he  had  a  powder  horn  and  pouch,  but  in- 
stead of  knife  and  pistol,  a  canvas  bag  or  haversack 
hung  from  his  shoulder ;  and  had  you  looked  into  it, 
you  would  have  seen  that  it  was  half  filled  with  shellsi 
pieces  of  rock,  and  rare  plants,  gathered  during  the 
day  —  the  diurnal  storehouse  of  the  geologist,  the 
palaeontologist,  and  botanist — to  be  emptied  for  study 
and  examination  by  tli  night  camp  fire.  Instead  of 
the  'coon-skin  cap  he  wore  a  white  felt  hat  with  broad 
leaf;  and  for  leggings  and  moccasons  he  had  trousers 
of  blue  oottonade,  and  laced  buskins  of  tanned 
leather. 

The  youngest  of  tho  three  was  dressed  and  accou- 
tred much  like  the  eldest,  except  that  his  cap  was  of 
blue  cloth — somewhat  after  the  fashion  of  the  mili- 
tary forage  cap.  All  three  wore  shirts  of  colored 
cotton,  the  best  for  journeying  in  these  uninhabited 
regions,  where  soap  is  scarce,  and  a  laundress  not  to 
bo  had  at  any  price. 

Though  very  unlike  one  another,  these  three  youths 
were  brothers.  I  knew  them  welL  I  had  seen  them 
before  —  about  two  years  before — and  though  each 
had  grown  several  inches  taller  since  that  time,  I  had 
no  difficulty  in  recognizing  them.  Even  though  they 
were  now  two  thousand  miles  from  where  I  had  for* 
merly  encountered  them,  I  could  not  be  mistaken  as  to 


r 


r-! 


ii     • 

1 
i 


I 


St 

Ii 


# 


22 


TDK   YOUNG    VOYAGEURS. 


their  identity.  Beyond  a  doubt)  they  were  the  same 
brave  young  adventurers  whom  I  had  met  iu  the 
swamps  of  Louisiana,  and  whose  exploits  I  had  wit- 
nessed upon  the  prairies  of  Texas.  They  were  the 
**  Boy  Hunters  "  —  Basil,  Lucien,  Francois  1  I  was 
right  glad  to  renew  acquaintance  with  them.  Boy 
reader,  do  you  share  my  joy  ? 

But  whither  go  they  now?  They  are  full  two 
thousand  miles  from  their  home  in  Louisiana.  The 
Red  River  upon  which  their  canoe  floats  is  not  that 
Red  River  whose  blood-like  waters  sweep  through  the 
swamps  of  the  hot  South  —  the  home  of  the  alligator 
8nd  the  gar.  No,  it  is  a  stream  of  a  far  different 
character,  though  also  one  of  great  magnitude.  Upon 
the  banks  of  the  former  ripens  the  rice-plant,  and  the 
sugar-cane  Vv  aves  its  golden  tassels  high  in  the  air. 
There,  too,  flourishes  the  giant  reed  {Arundo  gigan- 
tea),  the  fan  palm  {Chamcerops),  and  the  broad-leafed 
magnolia,  with  its  huge  snov -white  flowers.  There 
the  aspect  is  Southern,  and  the  heat  tropical  for  most 
part  of  the  yeai". 

All  this  is  reversed  on  the  Red  River  of  the  North. 
It  is  true  that  on  its  banks  sugar  is  also  produced ; 
but  it  is  no  longer  from  a  plant,  but  a  lordly  tree  — 
the  great  sugar-maple  {Acer  saccharinum).  There  ia 
rice,  too — vast  fields  of  rice  upon  its  marshy  bor- 
ders ;  but  it  is  not  the  pearly  grain  of  the  South.  It 
is  the  wild  rice,  "  the  water  oats  "  {Zizania  aquatica), 
the  food  of  millions  of  winged  creatures,  and  thou- 
sands of  human  beings  as  well.  Here  for  three 
fourths  of  the  year  the  sun  is  feeble,  and  the  aspect 
that  of  winter.    For  months  the  cold  waters  ar« 


1 


THE   YOUNG    VOZ^GEURS. 


98 


buismf  ap  in  an  icy  embrace.  The  earth  is  covered 
with  thick  snow,  over  which  rise  the  needle-leafed 
conifera  —  the  pines,  the  cedars,  the  spruce,  and  the 
hemlock.  Very  unlike  each  other  are  the  countries 
watered  by  the  two  streams,  the  Red  River  of  the 
South  and  its  namesake  of  the  North. 

But  whither  go  our  Boy  Hunters  in  their  birch-bark 
canoe?  The  river  upon  which  they  are  voyaging 
runs  due  northward  into  the  great  lake  Winnipeg. 
They  are  floating  with  its  current,  and  consequently 
increasing  the  distance  from  their  home.  Whither  go 
they? 

The  answer  leads  us  to  some  sad  reflections.  Our 
joy  on  again  beholding  them  is  to  be  mingled  with 
grief.  When  we  last  saw  them  they  had  a  father,  but 
no  mother.  Now  they  have  neither  one  nor  the  other. 
The  old  Colonel,  their  father  —  the  French  emigrSj 
the  hunter-naturalist — is  dead.  He  who  had  taught 
them  all  they  knew ;  who  had  taught  them  "  to  ride,  to 
Bwim,  to  dive  deep  rivers,  to  fling  the  lasso,  to  climb 
tall  trees,  and  scale  steep  cliffs,  to  bring  down  birds 
upon  the  wing  or  beasts  upon  the  run,  with  the  arrow 
and  the  unerring  rifle ;  who  had  trained  them  to  sleep 
in  the  open  air,  in  the  dark  forest,  on  the  unsheltered 
prairie,  along  the  white  snow-wreath— any  where- 
with but  a  blanket  or  a  buffalo  robe  for  their  bed ; 
who  had  taught  them  to  live  on  the  simplest  food,  and 
had  imparted  to  one  o"  them  a  knowledge  of  science, 
of  botany  in  particular,  that  enabled  them,  in  case  of 
need,  to  draw  sustenance  from  plants  and  trees,  from 
roots  and  frui^;'  to  find  resources  where  ignorant  men 
would  starve ;  had  taught  them  to  kindle  a  fire  with 


24 


THE   TOt•^G   VOYAGEUaS. 


MM 


OGt  flint,  steel,  or  detonating  powder ;  to  discover  their 
direction  without  a  compass,  from  the  rocks  and  the 
trees  and  the  signs  of  the  heavens ;  and  in  addition 
to  all,  had  taught  them,  as  for  as  was  then  known,  the 
geography  of  that  vast  wilderness  that  stretches  from 
the  Mississippi  to  the  shores  of  the  Pacific  Ocean, 
and  northward  to  the  icy  borders  of  the  Arctic  Sea"— 
he  who  had  taught  them  all  this,  their  father,  was  no 
more ;  and  his  three  sons,  the  "  boy  men,"  of  whom 
he  was  so  proud,  and  of  whose  accomplishments  he 
was  wont  to  boast,  were  now  orphans  upon  the  wide 
world. 

But  little  more  than  a  year  after  their  return  from 
their  grand  expedition  to  the  Texan  prairies,  the  "  old 
Colonel "  had  died.  It  was  one  of  the  worst  years  of 
that  scourge  of  the  South  —  the  yellow  fever  —  and 
to  this  dread  pestilence  he  had  fallen  a  victim. 

Hugot,  the  ex-chasseur  and  attached  domestic,  who 
was  accustomed  to  follow  his  master  like  a  shadow, 
had  also  followed  him  into  the  next  world.  It  was 
not  grief  that  killed  Hugot,  though  he  bore  the  loss 
of  his  kind  master  sadly  enough.  But  it  was  not 
grief  that  killed  Hugot.  He  was  laid  low  by  the 
same  disease  of  which  his  master  had  died  —  the  yel- 
low fever.  A  week  had  scarcely  passed  after  the 
death  of  the  latter,  before  Hugot  caught  the  disease, 
and  in  a  few  days  he  was  carried  to  the  tomb  and  laid 
by  the  side  of  his  "  old  Colonel." 

The  Boy  Hunters  —  Basil,  Lucien,  Franyois  — 
li)ecame  orphans.  They  knew  of  but  one  relation  in 
Jhe  whole  world  with  whom  their  father  had  kept  up 
any  correspondence.    This  relation  was  an  uncle,  and, 


fHE   YOUNG    VJTAGEUnS. 


28 


itrange  as  it  may  seem,  a  Scotcliman  —  a  Highlander, 
who  had  strayed  to  Corsica  in  early  life,  and  had 
there  married  the  Colonel's  sister.  That  ancle  had 
afterwards  emigrated  to  Canada,  and  had  become  ex- 
tensively engaged  in  the  fur  trade.  He  was  now  a 
saperintendent  or  "  factor ''  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Com- 
pany, stationed  at  one  of  their  most  remote  posts 
near  the  shores  of  the  Arctic  Sea !  There  is  a  ro- 
mance in  the  history  of  some  men  wilder  than  any 
fiction  that  could  be  imagined. 

I  have  not  yet  answered  the  question  as  to  where 
our  Boy  Hunters  were  journeying  in  their  birch-bark 
canoe.  By  this  time  you  will  have  divined  the  an- 
nwer.  Certainly,  you  will  say,  they  were  on  theii 
way  to  join  their  uncle  in  his  remote  home.  For  no 
other  object  could  they  be  travelling  through  the  wild 
regions  <rf  the  Red  River.  That  supposition  is  cor- 
rect. To  visit  this  Scotch  uncle  (they  had  not  seen 
him  for  years)  was  the  object  of  their  long,  toilsome, 
and  perilous  journey.  After  their  father's  death  he 
had  sent  for  them.  He  had  heard  of  their  exploits 
upon  the  prairies,  and,  being  himself  of  an  adventur- 
ous disposition,  he  was  filled  with  admiration  for  his 
young  kinsmen,  and  desired  very  much  to  have  them 
come  and  live  with  him.  Being  now  their  guardian, 
ho  might  command  as  much,  but  it  needed  not  any  ex- 
ercise of  authority  on  his  part  to  induce  all  three  of 
them  to  obey  his  summons.  They  had  travelled 
through  the  mighty  forests  of  the  Mississippi,  and 
upon  the  summer  prairies  of  the  South.  These  great 
features  of  the  earth's  surface  were  to  them  familiar 
things,  and  they  were  no  longer  curious  about  them. 


t,- 


f 


I 


!•  1 


I 


«'■' 


\ 


20 


THE   TOUK6   YOYAOEUVd. 


But  there  lemained  a  vast  country  which  thij  longed 
eagerly  to  explore.  They  longed  to  look  upon  ill 
Bhinmg  lakes  and  crystal  rivers ;  upon  its  snow-clad 
hills  and  ice-bound  streams ;  upon  its  huge  mamma- 
lia — its  moose  and  its  musk-oxen,  its  wapiti  and  ita 
monster  bears.  This  was  the  ^ery  country  to  which 
they  were  now  invited  by  their  kinsman,  and  cheer- 
fully did  they  accept  his  invitation.  Already  had 
they  made  one  half  the  journey,  though  by  far  the 
easier  half.  They  had  travelled  up  the  Mississippi 
by  steamboat  as  far  as  the  mouth  of  the  St.  Peter's. 
There  they  had  commenced  their  canoe  voyage — in 
other  words  became  "  voyageurs "  —  for  such  is  the 
name  given  to  those  who  travel  by  canoes  through 
these  wild  territories.  Their  favorite  horses,  and  the 
mule  "  Jeannette,"  had  been  left  behind.  This  was  a 
necessity,  as  these  creatures,  however  useful  upon  the 
dry  prairies  of  the  South,  where  there  are  few  or  no 
lakes,  and  where  rivers  only  occur  at  long  intervals, 
would  be  of  little  service  to  the  traveller  in  the 
Northern  regions.  Here  the  route  is  crossed  and  in- 
tercepted by  numerous  rivers ;  and  lakes  of  all  sizes, 
with  tracts  of  inundated  marsh,  succeed  one  another 
continually.  Such,  in  fact,  are  the  highways  of  the 
country,  and  the  canoe  the  travelling  carriage;  so 
that  a  ;oumey  from  one  point  of  the  Hudson's  Bay 
territory  to  another  is  often  a  canoe  voyage  of  thou- 
sands of  miles  —  equal  to  a  "  trip "  across  the  At* 
lantic  1 

Following  the  usual  custom,  therefore,  our  Boy 
Hunters  had  become  voyageurs  —  "  Young  Voych 
HeunJ"    They  had  navigated  the  St.  Peter's  in  sftfety, 


ti 


•■» 


THE  YOUNG  VOTAQErBS. 


S7 


Almost  to  its  head  waters.  These  interlock  witb  the 
eoiirces  of  the  Red  River.  By  a  "  portage  "  of  a  few 
miles  they  had  crossed  to  the  latter  stream ;  and,  hav 
ing  launched  their  canoe  upon  its  waters,  were  now 
floating  downwaril  and  north'vard  with  its  current. 
But  they  had  yet  a  long  journey  before  them  —  near- 
ly two  thousand  miles!  Many  a  river  to  be  "run," 
many  a  rapid  to  be  "shot,"  many  a  lake  to  be  crossed, 
and  many  a  "portage"  to  be  passed,  ere  they  could 
reach  the  end  of  that  great  voyage. 

Come,  boy  reader,  shall  we  accompany  them  ?  Yes. 
The  strange  scenes  and  wild  adventures  through 
which  we  must  pass,  may  lighten  the  toils,  and  per* 
haps  repay  us  for  the  perils,  of  the  journey.  Think 
not  of  the  toils.  Roses  grow  only  upon  thorns  From 
toil  we  learn  to  enjoy  leisure.  Regard  not  the  perils. 
"  From  the  nettle  danger  we  pluck  the  flower  safety." 
Security  often  springs  from  peril.  From  such  hard 
experiences  great  men  have  arisen.  Come,  then,  my 
young  friend !  mind  neither  toil  nor  peril,  but  with  me 
to  the  great  wilderness  of  the  North  I 

Stay!  "We  are  to  have  another  "compagnon  du 
voyage."  There  is  a  fourth  in  the  boat,  a  fourth 
"  young  voyageur."  Who  is  he  ?  In  appearance  he 
is  as  old  as  Basil,  full  as  tall,  and  not  unlike  him  in 
"build."  But  he  is  altogether  of  a  diflferent  color 
He  is  fair-haired ;  but  his  hair  (unlike  that  of  Lucien, 
which  is  also  light-colored)  is  strong,  crisp,  and  curly. 
It  does  not  droop,  but  stands  out  over  his  cheeks  in  a 
profusion  of  handsome  ringlets.  His  complexion  is 
of  that  kind  known  as  "  fresh,"  and  the  weather,  to 
which  it  has  evidently  been  much  exposed,  has  bronzeiJI 


!'!l' 


h 


H      ;/»,-. 


THE  YOUNG   V0TAGEUB8. 


and  rather  enriched  the  color.  The  eyes  are  dark  blue» 
and,  strange  to  say,  with  black  brows  and  lashei !  Thie 
is  not  common,  though  sometimes  observed ;  and,  in 
the  case  of  the  youth  we  are  describing,  arose  from  a 
difference  of  complexion  on  the  part  of  his  parents. 
He  looked  through  the  eyes  of  his  mother,  while  in 
other  respects  he  was  more  like  his  father,  who  tvat 
feir-haired  and  of  a  "  fresh  "  color. 

The  youth  himself  might  be  termed  handsome. 
Perhaps  he  did  not  pospass  the  youthful  beauty  of 
Fran9ois,  nor  the  bolder  kind  that  characterized  the 
face  of  Basil.  Perhaps  he  was  of  a  coarser  ••  make  ** 
than  any  of  his  three  companions.  His  intellect  had 
been  less  cultivated  by  education,  and  education  addt 
to  the  heccuty  of  the  face.  His  life  had  been  a  harder 
one  ;  he  had  toiled  more  with  his  hands,  and  had  seen 
less  of  civilized  society.  Still  many  would  have  pro- 
nounced him  a  handsome  youth.  His  features  were 
regular,  and  of  clean  outline.  His  lips  expressed 
good-nature  as  well  as  firmness.  His  eye  beamed 
with  native  intelligence,  and  his  whole  face  bespoke  a 
heart  of  true  and  determined  honesty  —  that  made  it 
beautiful. 

Perhaps  a  close  scrutinizer  of  countenances  might 
have  detected  some  resemblance  —  a  family  one  — 
between  him  and  his  three  companions.  If  such  there 
was,  it  was  very  slight ;  but  there  might  have  been, 
from  the  relationship  that  existed  between  them  and 
him.  Tie  was  their  cousin  —  their  full  cousin  —  the 
only  I  of  that  uncle  they  were  now  on  their  way 
to  riii  and  the  messenger  who  had  been  sent  tu 
bring  them.  Such  was  the  fourth  of  "the  young 
voyageurs." 


IBS  TOLNQ  TOTAGBUBS. 


His  dress  was  not  unlike  that  worn  by  Basil ;  but 
as  he  was  seated  on  the  bow,  and  acting  as  pilot,  and 
therefore  more  likely  to  feel  the  cold,  he  wore  over 
his  hunting-sliirt  a  Canadian  copote  of  wMte  woollen 
cloth,  with  its  hood  hanging  down  upon  his  shoulders. 

But  there  was  still  another  "voyageur,"  an  old 
acquaintance,  whom  you,  boy  reader,  will  do  donbi 
remember.  This  was  an  animal,  a  quadruped,  who 
lay  along  the  bottom  of  the  canoe  upon  a  buffalo's 
hide.  *'  From  his  size  and  color  —  which  was  a  tawny 
red  —  you  might  have  mistaken  him  for  a  panther  — • 
a  cougar.  His  long  black  muzzle  and  broad  hanging 
ears  gave  him  quite  a  different  aspect,  however,  and 
declared  him  to  be  a  hound.  He  was  one  —  a  blood- 
hound, with  the  cross  of  a  mastiff—  a  powerful  ani- 
maL  It  was  the  dog  '  Marengo.' "  You  remember 
Marengo? 

In  the  canoe  there  were  other  objects  of  interest. 
There  were  blankets  and  buffalo  robes :  there  was  a 
small  canvas  tent  folded  up ;  there  were  bags  of  pro- 
visions, and  some  cooking  utensils ;  there  was  a  spade 
and  an  axe ;  there  were  rifles  —  three  of  them  —  and 
a  double-barrelled  shot  gun;  besides  a  fish-net,  and 
many  other  articles,  the  necessary  equipments  for  such 
a  journey. 

Loaded  almost  to  the  gunwale  was  that  little  canoe, 
yet  lightly  did  it  float  down  the  waters  of  the  Bod 
River  of  the  North. 


so  I)    THB  XBUMPETEB   SWAN  AND 


•;r"' 


V 


CHAPTER  III. 


THB  TRUMPETER  SWAN  AND  THB  BALD  BAOLK 


m 


m 


(l! 


It  was  the  spring  season,  though  late.  The  snow 
had  entirely  disappeai*ed  from  the  hills,  and  the  ice 
from  the  water,  and  the  melting  of  both  had  swol- 
len the  river,  and  rendered  its  current  more  rapid 
than  usual.  Our  young  yoyageurs  needed  not  there- 
fore to  ply  their  oars/  except  now  and  then  to  guide 
the  canoe ;  for  these  little  vessels  have  no  rudder, 
but  are  steered  by  the  paddles.  The  skilful  voyageurs 
can  shoot  them  to  any  point  they  please,  simply  by 
their  dexterous  handling  of  the  oars  ;  and  Basil,  Lu- 
cien,  and  Franpois  had  had  sufficient  practice  both 
with  "  skiffs "  and  "  dug-outs "  to  make  good  oaasmen 
of  all  three.  They  had  made  many  a  canoe  trip  upon 
the  lower  Mississippi  and  the  bayous  of  Louisiana ; 
besides  their  journey  up  the  St.  Peter's  had  rendered 
them  familiar  with  the  management  of  their  birchen 
craft  An  occasional  stroke  of  the  paddle  kept  them 
in  their  course,  and  they  floated  on  without  effort. 
Norman  —  such  was  the  name  of  their  Canadian  or 
Highland  cousin  —  sat  in  the  bow  and  directed  their 
course.  This  is  the  post  of  honor  in  a  canoe ;  and  as 
he  Lad  more  experience  than  any  of  them  in  this  soit 
of  n&vigntion,  he  was  allowed  habitually  to  occupy 
this  post.    Lucien  sat  in  the  stern.    He  held  in  hii 


>  I 


THK   BALD   EAOLE. 


8) 


hands  a  book  and  pencil ;  and  as  the  canoe  glided  on* 
ward,  he  was  noting  down  his  memoranda.  The  ti-eea 
upon  the  banks  were  in  leaf — many  of  them  in  blos- 
som —  and  as  the  little  craft  verged  near  the  shopo, 
his  keen  eye  followed  the  configuration  of  the  leaves, 
to  discover  any  new  species  that  might  appear.  There 
is  a  rich  vegetation  upon  the  banks  of  the  Red  Biver ; 
but  the  flora  is  far  different  from  that  which  appears 
upon  the  low  alluvion  of  Louisiana.  It  is  Northern,  bu k 
not  Arctic.  Oaks,  elms,  and  poplars  are  seen  minglii^ 
with  birches,  willows,  and  aspens.  Several  species 
of  indigenous  fruit  trees  were  observed  by  Lucien, 
among  which  were  crab-apple,  raspberry,  strawberry, 
and  currant  There  was  also  seen  the  fruit  called  by 
the  voyageurs  "  le  poire,"  but  which  in  English  phrase- 
ology is  known  as  the  "  service-berry "  (Amelanchier 
ovcdis).  It  ^ows  upon  a  smaU  bush  or  shrub  of  six 
or  eight  feet  high,  with  smooth  pinnate  leaves.  These 
pretty  red  berries  are  much  esteemed  and  eaten  botli 
by  Indians  ani  wl^.^,  who  preserr-  them  by  drying, 
and  cook  them  in  various  ways.  There  was  still  an- 
other bush  that  fixed  the  attention  of  our  young  botar 
nist,  as  it  appeared  all  along  the  banks,  and  was  a 
ciiaracteristic  of  the  vegetation  of  the  country.  It 
was  not  over  eight  feet  in  height,  with  spreading 
branches  of  a  gray  color.  Its  leaves  were  three  inches 
wide,  and  somewhat  lobed  like  those  of  the  oak.  Of 
course,  at  this  early  season,  the  fruit  was  not  ripe  upon 
it;  but  Lucien  knew  the  fruit  w^ell.  When  ripe  it 
resembles  very  much  a  red  cherry,  or,  still  more,  a 
cianberry,  having  both  the  appearance  and  acrid  taste 
^  die  latter.    Indeed,  it  is  sometimes  used  as  a  sub- 


.■•> 


! 


33 


THE   TBUMPETEB   SWAN   AND 


PI 


•titute  for  cranberries  in  the  making  of  pies  and  tarte^ 
and  in  many  parts  it  is  called  the  "  bush  cranberry." 
The  name,  however,  by  which  it  is  known  among  the 
Indians  of  Bed  River  is  "  anepeminan,"  from  "  nepen^ 
summer,  and  ^^minan"  berry.  This  has  been  cor^ 
rupted  by  the  fur-traders  and  voyageurs  into  '*  Pem- 
bina ; "  hence  the  name  of  a  river  which  runs  into  the 
Bed,  and  also  the  name  of  the  celebrated  but  unsuc- 
cessful settlement  of  "Pembina,"  formed  by  Lord 
Selkirk  many  years  ago.  Both  took  their  names  from 
this  berry,  thai  grows  in  abundance  in  the  neighbor 
hood.  The  botanical  appellation  of  this  curious  shrub 
is  Viburnum  oxycoecot ;  but  there  is  another  species 
of  the  viburnum,  which  is  also  styled  "  oxycoccos.** 
The  common  "  snowball  bush "  of  our  gardens  is  a 
plant  of  the  same  genus,  and  very  like  the  "  Pembina  ** 
both  in  leaf  and  flower.  In  fact,  in  a  wild  state,  they 
might  be  regarded  as  the  same ;  but  it  is  well  known 
that  th^  flowers  of  the  snowball  are  sterile,  and  do 
not  produce  the  beautiful  bright  crimson  berries  <^ 
the  "  Pembina." 

Lucien  lectured  up<m  Uiese  points  to  his  compan- 
ions as  they  floated  along.  Norman  listened  with 
astonishment  to  his  philosophic  cousin,  who,  although 
he  had  never  been  in  this  region  before,  knew  mure 
of  its  plants  and  trees  than  he  did  himself  Basil 
ajso  was  interested  in  the  explanations  given  by  his 
brother.  On  the  contrary,  Fran9ob,  who  cared  but 
little  for  botanical  studies,  or  studies  of  any  sort,  was 
occupied  differently.  He  sat  near  the  middle  of  the 
canoe,  double-barrel  in  hand,  eagerly  watching  for  a 
ihoU     Many  species  of  water^fowl  were  upon  iht 


*•( 


IHB   BALD    EAGLE. 


88 


K 


1 


•iver,  for  it  was  now  late  in  the  spring,  and  the  wild 
geese  and  ducka  had  all  arrived,  and  were  passing 
northward  upon  their  annual  migration.  During  the 
day  Fran9ois  had  got  several  shots,  and  had  "  bagged  " 
three  wild  geese,  all  of  dilTerent  kinds,  for  there  are 
many  species  of  wild  geese  in  America.  He  had  also 
shot  some  ducks.  But  this  did  not  satisfy  him.  There 
was  a  bird  upon  the  river  Uiat  could  not  be  ap- 
proached. No  matter  how  the  canoe  was  manoeuvred, 
this  shy  creature  always  took  flight  before  Fran9oi6 
could  get  within  range.  For  days  he  had  been  en« 
deavoring  to  kill  one.  Even  upon  the  St.  Peter's 
many  of  them  had  been  seen,  sometimes  in  pairs,  at 
other  times  in  small  flocks  of  six  or  seven,  but  always 
shy  Mid  wary.  The  very  difficulty  of  getting  a  shot 
at  them,  alcmg  with  the  splendid  character  of  the  birds 
themselves,  had  rendered  Fran9ois  eager  to  obtain  one. 
The  bird  itself  was  no  other  than  the  great  wild  swan 
-—  the  king  of  aquatic  birds. 

"  Come,  brother  I "  said  Fran9ois,  addressing  Lu 
cien,  "bother  your  viburnums  and  your  oxycocksl 
Tell  us  something  about  these  swans.  See  I  there 
goes  another  of  them !  What  a  splendid  fellow  he 
is  I  I'd  give  something  to  have  him  within  range  of 
buck-shot." 

As  Fran9ois  spoke  he  pointed  down-stream  to  a 
great  white  bird  that  was  seen  moving  out  from  the 
bank.  It  was  a  swan,  and  one  of  the  very  largest 
kind  —  a  "  trumpeter  "  (  Oygnus  buccincUor). 

It  had  been  feeding  in  a  sedge  of  the  wild  rice 
{Zizania  ciquatica),  and  no  doubt  the  sight  of  the 
canoe  or  the  plash  of  the  guiding  oar  had  a.-sturbed| 
3 


,(^ 


8« 


THE  TRUMPETER  SWAN  AKD 


and  given  it  the  alarm.  It  shot  out  from  the  reodf 
with  liead  erect  and  wings  slightly  raised,  offering  to 
the  eyes  of  the  voyageurs  a  spectacle  of  graceful  and 
majestic  bearing,  that,  among  the  feathered  race  at 
least,  is  quite  inimitable. 

A  few  strokes  of  its  broad  feet  propelled  it  into  'he 
o[)en  water  near  the  middle  of  the  stream,  when,  mak- 
ing a  half  wheel,  it  turned  head  down  the  river,  and 
swam  with  the  current. 

At  the  point  where  it  turned  it  was  not  two  hundred 
yards  ahead  of  the  canoe.  Its  apparent  boldness  in 
permitting  them  to  come  so  near  without  taking  wing, 
led  Fran9ois  to  hope  that  they  might  get  still  nearer , 
and,  begging  his  companions  to  ply  the  paddles,  ho 
seized  hold  of  his  double-barrel,  and  leaned  forward 
in  the  canoe.  Basil  also  conceived  a  hope  that  a  shot 
was  to  be  had,  for  he  took  up  his  rifle,  and  looked  to 
the  cock  and  cap.  The  others  went  steadily  and 
quietly  to  work  at  the  oars.  In  a  few  moments  the 
cunoe  cleft  the  current  at  the  rate  of  a  galloping  horse, 
and  one  would  have  supposed  that  the  swan  must 
either  at  once  take  wing  or  be  overtaken. 

Not  so,  however.  The  "  trumpeter"  knew  his  game 
better  than  that.  He  had  full  confidence  both  in  hi« 
strength  and  speed  upon  the  water.  He  was  not 
going  to  undergo  the  trouble  of  a  fly,  until  the  neces- 
eity  arose  for  so  doing ;  and,  as  it  was,  he  seemed  to 
he  satisiied  that  that  necessity  had  not  yet  arrived. 
The  swim  cost  him  much  less  muscular  exertion  than 
ilying  would  have  done,  and  he  judged  that  the  cur- 
rent, here  very  swift,  would  carry  him  out  of  reach 
of  his  pursuers. 


>'5 


1 


y 


TUB   BALD    EA.OLB. 


8A 


r.-f. 


* 

5 


It  soon  began  to  appear  that  he  judged  rightly  i 
lu.d  the  Toyageurs,  to  their  chagrin,  saw  that,  instead 
of  gaining  upon  him,  as  they  had  expected,  evei^ 
moment  widened  the  distance  between  him  and  the 
canoe.  The  bird  had  an  advantage  over  his  pursuers. 
Three  distinct  powers  propelled  him,  while  they  had 
<mly  two  to  rely  upon.  He  had  the  current  in  his 
feivor  —  so  had  they.  He  had  oars  or  paddles  —  his 
feet ;  they  had  oars  as  well.  He  "  carried  sail,"  while 
they  spread  not  a  "  rag."  Thfc  wind  chanced  to  blow 
directly  down-stream,  and  the  broad  wings  of  the  bird, 
held  out  from  his  body,  and  half  extended,  caught  the 
very  pith  of  the  breeze  on  their  double  concave  sur- 
faces, and  carried  him  through  the  water  with  the 
velocity  of  an  arrow.  Do  you  think  that  he  was  not 
aware  of  this  advantage  when  he  started  in  the  race? 
I>o  you  suppose  that  these  birds  do  not  think  ?  I  for 
one  am  satisfied  they  do,  and  look  upon  every  one 
who  prates  about  the  instinct  of  these  creatures  as  a 
philosopher  of  a  very  old  school  indeed.  Not  only 
does  the  great  swan  think,  but  so  does  your  parrot, 
and  your  piping  bullfinch,  and  the  little  canary  that 
hops  on  your  thumb.  All  think,  and  reasony  and 
Judge.  Should  it  ever  be  your  fortune  to  witness  the 
performance  of  those  marvellous  birds,  exhibited  by 
the  graceful  Mdlle.  Vandermeersch  in  the  fashionable 
talons  of  Paris  and  London,  you  will  agree  with  me 
in  the  belief  that  the  smallest  of  them  has  a  mind  like 
yourself.  > 

Most  certainly  the  swan,  which  our  voyageurs  were 
pursuing,  Uiought,  and  reasoned,  and  judged,  and  cal- 
culated his  distance,  and  resolved  to  keep  on  "  the  eveo 


'( 


<    / 


$6 


THE  TRUMFETEB  8WA1T   AWD 


tenor  of  bis  way,"  without  putting  himself  to  extra 
trouble  by  beating  the  air  with  his  wings,  and  lifting  Iim 
heayy  body,  thirty  pounds  at  least,  up  into  the  hear* 
ens.  His  judgment  proTed  sound ;  for,  in  less  than  ten 
minutes  from  the  commencement  of  the  chase,  he  had 
gained  a  clear  hundred  yards  upon  his  pursuers,  and 
continued  to  widen  the  distance.  At  interrals  he 
raised  his  beak  higher  than  usual,  and  uttered  hia 
loud  booming  note,  which  fell  upon  the  ears  of  the 
Toyageurs  as  though  it  had  been  sent  back  in  mockery 
and  defiance. 

They  would  have  given  up  the  pursuit,  had  they 
not  noticed  that  a  few  himdred  yards  farther  down  the 
river  made  a  sharp  turn  to  the  right.  The  swan,  on 
reaching  this,  would  no  longer  have  the  wind  in  his 
favor.  This  inspired  them  with  fresh  hopes.  They 
thought  they  would  be  able  to  overtake  him  after 
passing  the  bend,  and  then,  either  get  a  shot  at  him, 
or  force  him  into  the  air.  The  latter  was  the  mora 
likely ;  and,  v'^lthough  it  would  be  no  great  gratificti^ 
tion  to  see  him  fly  oflf,  yet  they  liad  become  so  interr 
ested  in  this  singular  chase  that  they  desired  tr)  termi- 
nate it  by  putting  the  trumpeter  to  some  trouble. 
They  bent,  therefore,  with  fresh  energy  to  their  oars, 
and  pulled  onward  in  the  pursuit.  First  the  swan, 
and  after  him  the  canoe,  swung  round  the  bend,  and 
entered  the  new  "reach"  of  the  river.  The  voy- 
ageurs  at  once  perceived  that  the  bird  now  swam 
more  slowly.  He  no  longer  "  carried  sail,"  as  ^i« 
wind  was  no  longer  in  his  favor.  His  wings  lay 
closely  folded  to  his  body,  and  he  moved  only  by  th« 
aid  <^  bis  webb«d  &et  and  the  cuirent,  whicli  hut 


>j 


•r* 


THE  BALD  EAGLE. 


J7 


happened  to  be  sluggish,  as  the  river  at  thia  y4ii 
spread  over  a  wide  expanse  of  level  lar  u.  The  odao« 
was  evidently  catching  up,  and  each  stroke  was  bnug* 
ing  the  pursuers  nearer  to  the  pursued. 

After  a  few  minutes'  brisk  pulling,  the  trumpeter 
hp.d  lost  so  much  ground  that  he  was  not  two  hundred 
yards  in  the  advance,  and  "  dead  ahead."  His  body 
was  no  longer  carried  with  the  same  gracefulness,  and 
the  majestic  curving  of  his  neck  had  disappeared. 
His  bill  protruded  forward,  and  his  thighs  began  to 
drag  the  water  in  his  wake.  He  was  evidently  oa 
the  threshold  of  flight  Both  Fran9ois  and  Basil  saw 
this,  as  they  stood  with  their  guns  crossed  and  ready. 

At  this  moment  a  shrill  cry  sounded  over  the  water. 
It  was  the  scream  of  some  wild  creature,  ending  in  a 
strange  laugh,  like  the  laugh  of  a  maniac  I 

On  both  sides  of  the  river  there  was  a  thick  foiest 
»f  tall  trees  of  the  cotton-wood  species  {Populiu 
angustifoKa).  From  this  forest  the  strange  cry  had 
proceeded,  and  from  the  right  bank.  Its  echoes  had 
hardly  ceased,  when  it  was  answered  by  a  similar  cry 
from  the  trees  upon  the  left.  So  like  were  the  two, 
^hat  it  seemed  as  if  some  one  of  God'e  ivild  creatures 
was  mocking  another.  These  cries  were  hideous 
enough  to  frighten  any  one  not  used  to  them.  They 
had  not  that  effect  upon  our  voyageurs,  who  knew 
their  import.  One  and  all  of  them  were  familiar  with 
the  voice  of  the  white-headed  engle  I 

The  trumpder  knew  it  as  well  as  any  of  them,  but 
on  him  it  produced  a  far  difterent  effect.  His  terror 
was  apparent,  and  his  intention  was  all  at  cnc<s 
nhaiiged.    Instead  of  rising  into  the  air,  as  he  had 


{58  THE   TRUMPETER   SWAN   AND 

premeditated,  Le  suddenly  lowered  his  head,  and  di» 
appeared  under  the  water ! 

Again  was  heard  the  wild  scream  and  the  maniac 
laugh  ;  and  the  next  moment  an  eagle  swept  out  from 
the  timber,  and,  after  a  few  strokes  of  it?  broad  wing, 
poised  itself  over  the  spot  where  the  trumpeter  had 
gone  down.  The  other,  its  mate,  was  seen  crossing 
at  the  same  time  from  the  opposite  side. 

Presently  the  swan  rose  to  the  surface,  but  his 
head  was  hardly  out  of  the  water  when  the  eagle  once 
more  uttered  its  wild  note,  and,  half  folding  its  wings, 
darted  down  from  above.  The  swan  seemed  to  have 
expected  this,  for  before  the  eagle  could  reach  the 
surface,  he  had  gone  under  a  second  time,  and  the  lat- 
ter, though  passing  with  the  velocity  of  an  arrow, 
plunged  his  talons  in  the  water  to  no  purpose.  With. 
a  cry  of  disappointment  the  eagle  mounted  back  uit<j 
the  air,  and  commenced  wheeling  in  circles  over  the 
spot.  It  was  now  joined  by  its  mate,  and  both  kept 
round  and  round,  watching  for  the  reappearance  of 
their  intended  victim. 

Again  the  swan  came  to  the  surface,  but  before 
either  of  *he  eagles  could  swoop  upon  him  he  had  for 
the  third  time  disappeared.  The  swan  is  but  an  indiffer- 
ent diver ;  but  under  such  circumstances  he  was  likely 
to  do  his  best  at  it.  But  what  could  it  avail  him  ?  He 
must  soon  rise  to  the  surface  to  take  breath  —  each 
time  at  shorter  intervals.  He  would  soon  become 
fatigued  and  unable  to  dive  with  sufficient  celerity, 
and  then  his  cruel  enemies  would  be  down  upon  him 
with  their  terrible  talons.  Such  is  the  usual  result, 
ouless  tke  swan  takes  to  the  air,  which  he  sometimef 


"-'  V 


\ 


i\ 


<■{ 


THE   BALD    EAGLE. 


St 


docs.  In  the  present  case  he  had  built  bis  hopes 
upon  a  different  means  of  escape.  He  contemplated 
being  able  to  conceal  himself  in  a  heavy  sedge  of  bul- 
rushes  {Scirpiis  lacustris)  that  grew  along  the  edge 
of  the  river,  and  towards  these  he  was  evidently  di" 
recting  his  course  under  the  water.  At  each  emersion 
he  appeared  some  yards  nearer  them,  until  at  length 
he  iiAO  'vithin  a  few  feet  of  their  margin,  and  diving 
^nui.  ?s  seen  no  morel  He  had  crept  in  among 
tlae  bC^L^5u,  and  no  doubt  was  lying  with  only  his  head, 
or  part  of  it,  above  the  water,  his  body  concealed  by 
tbe  broad  leaves  of  the  nympha,  while  the  head  itself 
could  not  be  distinguished  among  the  white  flowers 
that  lay  thickly  along  the  surface. 

T^e  eagles  now  wheeled  over  the  sedge,  flapping 
the  tops  of  the  bulrushes  with  their  broad  wings,  and 
screaming  with  disappointed  rage.  Keen  as  were 
their  eyes  they  could  not  discover  the  hiding-place  of 
their  victim,  i^^o  loubt  they  would  have  searched  for 
it  a  long  while,  <it  the  canoe — which  they  now  ap- 
peared to  not'  .  i.i^  the  first  time  —  had  floated  near^ 
and,  beconi'  ig  ;  ,  ■i\<ii  of  their  own  danger,  both  mount- 
ed into  the  i.'"^  f>'i>,  and  with  a  farewell  scream  flew 
off",  and  alighted  i    :•'   le  dista:  "e  down  the  river. 

"A  swan  for  supper!"  shouted  Frari9oiS)  as  ha 
poised  his  gun  for  .he  expected  shot. 

The  canoe  was  headed  for  the  bulrushes  near  the 
point  where  the  trumpeter  had  been  last  seen ;  and  » 
few  strokes  of  the  paddles  brought  the  little  cra^ 
with  a  wh'  ^ing  sound  among  the  sedge.  But  tie 
culma  of  ;  viphes  were  so  tall,  and  grew  so  closely 
together,  th£i  ^  x  cauoe-men,  after  entering,  found  (o 


THE  TRUMPETER  S^aN   AND 


/^■' 


U 


P 


1^ 


ibeir  cliagrin  they  could  not  see  six  feet  aro  jnd  theut 
They  dared  not  stand  up,  for  this  is  exceedingly  dan- 
gerous in  a  birch  canoe,  where  the  greatest  caution  is 
necessary  to  keep  the  vessel  from  careening  over. 
Moreover,  the  sedge  was  so  thick,  that  it  was  with 
difficulty  they  could  use  their  oarB.  They  remained 
stationary  for  a  time,  surrounded  "•  U  of  green 

bulrush.  They  soon  perceived  that  t..  iuld  never 
do,  and  resolved  to  push  back  into  the  open  water. 
Meanwhile  Marengo  had  been  sent  into  the  sedge, 
and  was  now  heard  plunging  and  sweltering  about 
in  sea^^h  of  the  game.  Marengo  was  not  much 
of  a  water>dog  by  nature,  but  he  had  been  trained 
to  almost  svery  kind  of  hunting,  and  his  experience 
among  the  swamps  of  Louisiana  had  long  since  re- 
lieved him  of  all  dread  for  the  water.  His  mas- 
ters, therefore,  had  no  fear  but  that  Marenji^  would 
"  put  up  "  the  trumpeter. 

Marengo  had  been  let  loose  a  little  too  soon.  Be* 
fore  the  canoe  could  be  cleared  of  the  entangling 
sedge,  the  dog  was  heard  to  utter  one  of  his  loud 
growls,  then  followed  a  heavy  plunge,  there  was  a 
confused  fluttering  of  wings,  and  the  great  white  bird 
rose  majestically  into  the  air  1  Before  cither  of  the 
pinners  could  direct  their  aim,  he  was  beyond  the 
•ange  of  shot,  and  both  prudently  reserved  their  fire. 
Marengo,  having  peiformed  his  part,  swam  back  to  the 
uuioe,  and  was  lifted  over  the  gunwale. 

The  swan,  after  dealing  the  idge,  rose  almost  ver- 
tically into  the  air.  These  birds  usually  fly  at  a  grea^ 
elevation  —  sometimes  entirely  beyond  the  reach  of 
light.    Unlike  the  wild  geese  and  ducks,  they  never 


THE   BALD   EAGLE. 


41 


ftlight  upon  land,  but  always  upon  the  bosom  ol'  the 
water.  It  was  evidently  the  intenti<Hi  of  this  cne  to 
go  far  from  the  scene  of  his  late  dangers,  perhaps  to 
the  great  lake  Winnipeg  itself. 

After  attaining  a  height  of  several  hundred  yards, 
he  flew  forward  in  a  horizontal  course,  and  followed 
the  direction  of  the  stream.  His  flight  was  now  reg^ 
ular,  and  his  trumpet-note  could  be  heard  at  intervaUi 
as,  with  outstretched  neck,  he  glided  along  the  heavens 
He  seemed  to  feel  the  pleasant  sensations  that  every 
creature  has  after  an  escape  from  danger,  and  no 
doubt  he  fancied  himself  secure.  But  in  this  fancy 
he  deceived  himself.  Better  for  him  had  he  risen  a 
few  hundred  yards  higher,  or  else  had  uttered  his  self- 
gratulation  in  a  mwe  subdued  tone ;  foi  it  was  heard 
and  answered,  and  that  response  was  the  maniac 
laugh  of  the  white-headed  eagle.  At  the  same  in- 
stant two  of  these  birds  —  those  already  introduced  — 
were  seen  mounting  into  the  air.  They  did  not  fly 
up  vertically,  as  the  swan  had  done,  but  in  spiral 
curves,  wheeling  and  crossing  each  other  as  they  as- 
cended. They  were  making  for  a  pmnt  that  would 
intersect  the  flight  of  the  swan  should  he  keep  on  in 
his  horizontal  course.  This,  however,  he  did  not  do. 
With  an  eye  as  quick  as  theirs,  he  saw  that  he  was 
"  headed ;  "  and,  stretching  his  long  neck  upward,  he 
again  purjued  an  almost  vertical  line.  But  he  had  to 
carry  thirty  pounds  of  flesh  and  bones,  while  the 
largest  of  the  eagles  —  the  female  bird  —  with  a  still 
broader  spread  of  wing,  was  a  "  light  we/ ght "  of  only 
•ovon.  The  result  of  this  difference  was  soon  appaiw 
•nt    Before  the  trumpeter  had  got  two  hundred  yanli 


\ 


r  I 


IS 


\\\ 


THE   TRUMPETER    SWAN   AND 


higher,  the  female  of  the  eagles  was  seen  wheeling 
around  him  on  the  same  level.  The  swan  was  now 
observed  to  double,  fly  dovrnward,  and  then  upward 
again,  while  his  mouriiful  note  echoed  back  to  the 
earth.  But  his  efforts  were  m-vain.  After  a  series 
of  contortions  and  manoeuvres,  the  eagle  darted  for- 
ward, with  a  quick  toss  threw  herself  back-downward, 
and,  striking  upward,  planted  her  talons  in  the  under 
part  of  the  wing  of  her  victim.  The  lacerated  shaft 
fell  uselessly  down ;  and  the  great  white  bird,  no 
longer  capable  of  flight,  came  whistling  through  the 
air.  But  it  was  not  allowed  to  drop  directlj  to  the 
earth ;  it  would  have  fallen  on  the  bosom  of  the  broad 
rivei%  and  that  the  eagles  did  not  wish,  as  it  would 
have  given  them  some  trouble  to  get  the  heavy  car- 
cass ashore.  As  soon  as  the  male  —  who  was  lower 
in  the  air — saw  that  his  partner  had  struck  the  bird, 
he  discontinued  his  upward  fiight,  and,  poising  him- 
self on  his  spread  tail,  waited  its  descent  A  single 
'i-  -ant  was  sufficient  The  white  object  passed  him 
still  fluttering ;  but  the  moment  it  w^^  below  his  level 
he  shot  after  it  like  an  arrow,  ard,  clutching  it  iii  Lis 
talons,  with  an  outward  stroke  sent  it  whizzing  in  a 
diagonal  direction.  The  next  moment  a  crashing  was 
heard  among  the  twigs,  and  a  dull  sound  announced 
that  the  swan  had  fallen  upon  the  earth. 

The  eagles  were  now  seen  sailing  downward,  and 
Boon  disappeared  among  the  tops  of  the  trees. 

The  canoe  soon  reached  the  bank;  and  Fran9oi9, 
accompanied  by  Basil  and  Marengo,  leaped  ashore, 
and  went  in  search  of  the  birds.  They  found  the 
iwan  quite  dead,  and  lying  upon  its  back  as  the  eagles 


■  \ 


«4 


THE  BALD   EA.6LB. 


4« 


had  turned  it.  Its  breast  was  torn  open,  and  the 
crimson  blood,  with  which  they  had  been  gorging 
themselves,  was  spread  in  broad  flakes  over  its  snowy 
plumage.  The  eagles  themselves,  scared  by  the  dog 
Marengo,  had  taken  flight  before  the  boys  could  got 
within  shot  of  them. 

.  As  it  was  just  the  hour  for  a  "noon  halt"  and  a 
luncheon,  the  swan  was  carried  to  the  bank  of  the 
river,  where  a  crackling  fire  was  soon  kindled  to  roast 
him ;  and  while  this  operation  was  going  on,  the  "  nat- 
uralist" was  rcquefted  by  his  companions  to  give  th<iiB 
an  account  of  the  '*  swjans  of  America." 


'^:k 


/•I 


,li 


THE   SWANS    OF  AlUCBICA. 


l'( 


CHAPTER  IV. 


THE  SWANS  OF  AMERICA. 


\i 


**Vert  well,  then,"  said  Lucien,  agreeing  to  tlis 
request  ^  I  shall  tell  jou  all  I  know  of  the  swans ; 
■nd,  indeed,  that  is  not  much,  as  the  natural  history 
of  these  birds  in  their  wild  state  is  but  little  under- 
stood. On  account  of  their  shj  habits,  there  is  not 
much  opportunity  of  observing  them;  and  as  they 
annually  migrate  and  breed  in  those  desolate  regions 
within  the  Arctic  circle,  where  civilized  men  do  not 
live,  but  little  information  has  been  collected  about 
them.  Some  of  the  species,  however,  breed  in  the 
temperate  zones,  and  the  habits  of  these  are  better 
known. 

"  For  a  long  time  it  was  fancied  there  was  but  one 
species  of  swan.  It  is  now  known  that  there  are 
several,  distinguished  from  each  other  in  form,  color, 
voice,  and  habits.  '  White  as  a  swan,'  is  a  simile  as 
old,  perhaps,  as  language  itself.  This,  I  fancy,  would 
sound  strangely  to  the  ears  of  a  native  Australian, 
who  is  accustomed  to  look  upon  swans  as  being  of  the 
very  opposite  color,  for  the  black  swan  is  a  native  of 
that  country. 

**  According  to  the  naturalist  Brehm,  who  has  given 
ouch  attention  to  this  subject,  there  are  four  distinct 
species  of  swans  in  Europe.    They  are  all  white« 


ft 


A I 


t    I 


THE  8WAN8  OF  AMEBICA. 


48 


though  Bomn  of  the  species  have  a  reddish  orange 
tinge  about  the  head  and  neck.    Two  of  them  are 

*  gibbous,'  that  is,  with  a  knob  or  protuberance  upon 
the  upper  part  of  the  bill.  One  of  these  Brehm  terms 
the  *  white-headed  gibbous  swan*  (Q/gntts  gihbtu) 
The  other  is  the  *  yellow-headed  *  (  C  olor) ;  and  this 
last  also  is  known  as  the  mute  or  tame  swan,  because 
it  is  that  species  most  commonly  seen  in  a  tame  state 
xipon  the  ornamental  lakes  and  ponds  of  England. 
The  other  two  European  species  Brehm  has  designat- 
ed '  singing  swans,'  as  both  of  them  utte?  a  note  that 
«iay  be  heard  to  a  considerable  distance. 

"  The  black  swan  of  Australia  (  C.  niffer)  has  been 
tiaturalized  in  Europe,  and  bmeds  freely  in  England, 
where,  from  its  great  size  and  peculiar  markings,  it  is 
one  of  the  most  ornamental  of  water>fowls.  It  is, 
moreover,  a  great  tyrant,  and  will  not  periuit  other 
birds  to  approach  its  haunt,  but  drives  them  off,  strik- 
ing tb«m  furiously  with  its  strong  broad  wings. 

"l/ntil  a  late  period  the  swans  of  America  were 
lupposed  to  be  all  of  one  kind.  This  is  not  the  case, 
rhece  are  now  known  to  be  three  distinct  species  in- 
Uabuing  tiie  fur  countries,  and  migrating  annually  to 
the  South.  That  which  is  lest  known  is  the  *  whis- 
tler,' or  'hooper'  (01  Arhericanus),  because  it  is  the 
species  that  abounds  in  the  old  States  upon  the  Atlan- 
tic, and  was  therefore  more  observed  by  naturalists. 
It  is  believed  to  be  identical  with  one  of  the  European 

*  singing  *  swans  {C.  ferns),  but  this  is  not  certain, 
and  for  my  part,  I  believe  they  are  different,  as  the 
eggs  of  the  American  swan  are  greenish,  while  those 
of  its  European  congener  are  browmsh,  with  whtt« 
blotches.  '  "'    • 


THE  SWANS    OF  AHBBICA. 


i( 


''The 'hooper' is  four  and  a  half  feet  in  lengtlv 
though  there  are  males  still  larger,  some  of  them 
measuring  five  feet.  Its  color  is  white,  except  upon 
the  head  and  back  part  of  the  neck,  where  there  is  a 
coppery  tinge.  The  bill  and  feet  are  black.  From 
the  angle  of  the  mouth  to  the  eye  there  is  a  small 
naked  *  cere,'  of  a  bright  yellow  color.  These  swans, 
lihe  others  of  the  genus,  do  not  care  much  for  the  salt 
water.  They  are  rarely  seen  upon  the  sea,  except 
ticar  its  shores,  where  they  may  find  the  aquatic  plants 
-ipon  which  they  feed.  Nor  do  they  go  out  upon  the 
large  lakes.  When  found  upon  these,  it  is  generally 
close  in  to  the  land.  This  is  accounted  for  by  the  fact 
that  the  swans  do  not '  dive '  for  their  food,  but  stretch 
down  for  it  with  their  long  necks,  which  Nature  haa 
peculiarly  adapted  to  this  very  purpose.  Their  favor- 
ite food  consists  of  the  roots  of  aquatic  plants,  which 
are  often  farinaceous.  As  these  grow  best  in  the  shal- 
low small  lakes  and  along  the  margins  of  rivers,  such 
places  are  the  usual  resort  of  the  swans.  Although 
their  diet  is  a  vegetable  one,  it  is  not  exclusively  so, 
as  they  will  eat  frogs,  worms,  and  small  fish.  Unlike 
the  ducks  and  geese,  they  rarely  feed  upon  land,  but 
while  floating  upon  the  surface  of  the  watel.  They 
walk  but  awkwardly  on  land,  and  are  at  home  only 
on  water  or  in  the  air.  In  the  air  they  are  quite  at 
home,  and  fly  so  swiftly  that  it  is  no  easy  m&tter  to 
shoot  them,  especially  when  going  before  the  wind. 
At  such  times  they  arc  supposed  to  fly  at  tue  rate  of 
one  hundred  miles  an  hour.  When  moulting,  and 
unable  to  rise  into  the  air,  it  is  no  eany  matter  to 
follow  them  even  with  a  canoe.    By  means  of  their 


THE   SVTANS   OF   AMERICA. 


49 


broad  feet  and  strong  wings,  they  can  flutter  so  quii^kly 
itver  the  water,  now  and  then  diving,  that  the  huntef 
cannot  overtake  them  in  his  hoat,  but  is  obliged  lo  use 
his  gun  in  the  pursuit. 

"  The  *  hoopers '  are  migratory,  —  that  is,  thtty  pasf 
to  the  North  every  spring,  and  southward  again  in  the 
autumn.  Why  they  make  these  annual  migrations^ 
remains  one  of  the  mysteries  of  nature.  Some  believe 
ihey  migrate  to  the  North,  because  they  there  find 
those  desolate  uninhabited  regions  where  they  can 
bring  forth  their  young  in  security.  But  this  expla- 
nation caimot  be  the  true  one,  as  there  are  also  unin- 
habited regions  in  the  south,  even  under  the  equator, 
where  they  may  be  equally  free  from  the  presence  of 
man.  Another  explanation  might  be  offered.  In  hot 
and  tropical  countries,  most  of  the  small  lakes  and 
swamps,  where  these  birds  love  to  dwell,  dry  up  dur- 
ing the  summer  months:  hence  the  necessity  of  a 
migration  to  colder  and  moister  regions.  But  thii 
would  only  hold  good  of  the  wading  and  water  birds ; 
it  would  not  account  for  the  migration  of  the  many 
other  birds  of  passage. 

"  A  better  exploration  may  be  this :  The  north  and 
the  cold  aones  are  the  natural  habitat  of  most  migra- 
tory birds.  It  is  there  that  they  bring  forth  their 
young,  and  there  they  are  at  home.  In  tropical  re- 
gions they  are  only  sojourners  for  a  season,  forced 
thither,  some  of  them,  by  a  cold  which  they  do  not 
rehsh ;  but  others,  such  as  the  water  fowl,  by  the  frost, 
which,  binding  up  the  lakes,  rivers,  and  swamps,  hin- 
ders them  from  procuring  their  food.  They  are  thui 
cmnpelled  to  make  an  annual  migration  to  the  opec 


48 


9HC   SWANS   OF   AMERICA. 


waters  of  the  South,  but  aa  soon  as  the  ice  has  given 
way  before  the  genial  breath  of  spring,  they  all  re- 
turn rejoicing  to  their  favorite  home  in  the  North, 
when  their  season  of  love  commences. 

"The  'hoopers'  follow  this  general  law,  and  mi- 
grate to  the  northward  every  spring.  They  breed 
npon  islets  in  the  numerous  lakes  that  stud  the  whole 
not  them  part  of  the  American  continent.  Eminences 
in  swamps  are  also  chosen  for  breeding  places,  and 
the  ends  of  promontories  that  jut  out  into  the  water. 
The  spot  selected  is  -always  such  that  the  swan,  when 
reated  upon  her  nest,  can  have  a  view  of  the  sur-> 
rounding  country,  and  detect  any  enemy  long  before 
it  can  approach  her.  The  top  of  the  dome-shaped 
dwellings  of  the  musk-rat,  or  musquash  {Fiber  zihethi- 
cu$),  is  often  selected  by  the  swan  for  her  nest.  Thesf 
curious  little  houses  are  usually  in  the  midst  of  im 
penetrable  swamps :  they  are  only  occupied  by  theif 
builders  during  the  winter ;  and  as  they  are  deserted 
by  them  in  early  spring,  they  are  therefore  quite  at 
the  service  of  the  swan  for  the  '■  balance  of  the  season. 
The  bird  makes  a  large  cavity  in  the  top,  and  lines 
It  with  such  reeds  and  grass  as  may  be  found  near 
the  spot. 

"  The  hooper  lays  from  six  to  eight  eggs,  and  sita 
apon  them  for  a  period  of  six  weeks,  when  the  cyg- 
nets c<Hne  forth  covered  with  a  thick  down  of  a  bluish- 
gray  color.  While  sitting  upon  her  eggs,  the  swan  is 
exceedingly  watchful  and  shy.  She  *  faces '  towards 
the  point  whence  she  most  apprehends  dang^.  When 
the  weather  is  severe,  and  the  wind  cold  and  keen, 
she  changes  into  that  position  which  is  most  comferi 


TBB  8WAMS   Ot  AMERI€a. 


4« 


■ble.  If  her  nest  be  upon  a  promontory  ini»tcad  of 
fui  island,  she  usually  sits  with  her  head  to  the  land, 
aa  she  feels  secure  that  no  enemy  will  reach  her  from 
the  waterside.  From  the  land  she  has  not  only  man 
to  'look  out'  for,  but  the  wolverene  ( Ghdo  /tucuf),  the 
lynx  {Felis  Canadensis)^  foxes,  and  wolves. 

"  The  Indians  often  snare  the  swan  upon  her  nest 
Of  course  the  snare  —  a  running  noose  made  from  the 
intestines  of  the  deer  —  is  set  in  her  absence.  It  is 
placed  upon  the  side  by  which  she  enters,  as  these 
birds  enter  and  leave  the  nest  upon  opposite  sides. 
The  snare  must  be  arranged  with  great  care,  and 
^  clean  hands ;  and  the  Indians  always  take  the 
\ution  to  wash  their  hands  before  setting  it,  else 
the  swans,  whose  sense  of  smell  is  very  acute,  will 
perceive  the  presence  of  danger,  and  will  not  only 
keep  away  for  a  time,  but  sometimes  desert  the  eggs 
altogether.  There  are  many  other  birds  that  have  a 
similar  habit. 

''So  much  for  the  'hooper,'"  continued  Lucien; 
"  now  for  the  '  trumpeter.'  This  is  the  largest  of  the 
American  swans,  being  found  to  measure  seventy 
inches  in  length.  Its  specific  name  'trumpeter' 
( O.  buccinator)  is  given  to  it  on  account  of  its  note, 
which  resembles  the  sound  of  a  French  horn,  or  trum- 
pet, played  at  a  distance.  The  bird  is  white,  with 
Mack  bill  and  feet,  and  has  also  a  reddish  orange  or 
oopper  tinge  upon  the  crown  and  neck ;  but  it  wants 
the  yellow  spot  between  the  split  of  the  mandibles 
and  the  eye.  It  is  easily  distinguished  from  the 
hooper,  both  by  its  louder  note  and  larger  l)ody.  Its 
habits,  however,  are  very  simiUir,  exc  -pt  tLat  it 


I  X.  1 


: 


8a 


THE    SWANS    OF  AMERICA. 


t 


to  be  more  gregarioua,  —  small  flocks  of  six  or  eighi 
often  appearing  together,  while  the  hooper  is  seen  only 
m  pairs,  and  sometimes  solitary.  Another  distino 
tion  is,  that  the  trumpeter  arrives  tnuch  eaiMer  in  its 
migrations  to  the  North,  being  'he  earliest  bird  that 
appears  except  the  eagles.  It  breeds  as  far  South  as 
latitu  !e  61°,  but  most  generally  within  the  Arctic  cLr« 
4e.  Its  nest  is  consti-ucted  similarly  to  those  of  the 
hooper,  but  its  eggs  are  much  larger,  one  of  them  be- 
ing a  meal  foi*  a  moderate  eater,  without  bread  or  any 
other  addition.  The  trumpeter  frequently  arrives  in 
the  North  before  the  lakes  or  rivers  are  thawed.  It 
is  then  obliged  to  find  sustenance  at  the  rapids  and 
waterfalls,  where  the  Indians  can  approach  under 
cover,  and  many  are  shot  at  such  times  by  these  peo- 
ple. At  all  other  times,  as  you,  Fran9ois,  have  ob- 
served, it  is  a  bird  most  diflftcult  of  approach ;  and 
the  Indian  hunters  only  attempt  it  when  they  have  a 
long-range  gun  loaded  with  ball. 

"  The  third  species  of  American  swans  is  that 
known  as  Bewick's  swan  ( C.  Bewickii)^  called  after 
the  naturalist  of  that  name.  It  is  the  smallest  of  the 
three,  raiely  measuring  over  fifty- two  inches  in  length, 
CJid  weighing  only  fourteen  pounds,  while  the  hooper 
is  over  twenty  pounds  in  weight,  and  the  trumpeter  is 
often  obtained  of  the  enormous  weight  of  thirty ! 

"  Bewick's  swan  is  also  said  to  be  identical  with 
one  of  Brehm's  singing  swans.  Its  color  is  almost 
similar  to  that  of  the  hooper,  and  the  two  are  often 
mistaken  for  each  other.  The  size  and  the  tail- 
fes.thers  of  all  three  of  the  American  swans  form  a 
efficiently  specific    distinction.      Ii^  the   trumpetei 


4'» 


r'.y       ri 


TH^  SWANS   OF  AMEBIOA. 


51 


fkese  aro  twenty -four  in  number,  in  the  hooper  twai* 
ty,  while  the  small  species  has  only  eighteen. 

'  Of  the  three,  the  last<mentioned  is  the  latest  on 
its  aimual  journey,  but  it  breeds  farther  North  than 
either  of  the  others.  Its  nest  is  found  upon  the 
islands  of  the  Arctic  Sea ;  it  is  usually  built  of  peat- 
moss, and  is  of  gigantic  dimensions^  being  six  feet  long 
by  five  in  width,  and  nearly  two  feet  high.  In  the 
top  of  this  pile  is  the  nest  it'elf,  forming  a  large 
round  cavity  nearly  two  feet  in  diameter.  The  eggs 
are  of  a  brownish  white,  with  clouds  of  darker 
tint. 

"  I  have  remarked,"  continued  Lucien,  **  u  singu- 
larity  in  the  geographical  distribution  of  these  three 
species.  Upon  the  Pacific  coast  the  smallest  kind 
and  the  hooper  only  are  met  with,  and  the  small 
ones  outnumber  the  others  in  the  ratio  of  five  to 
one.  In  the  interior  parts  of  the  continent  only  the 
hoopers  and  trumpeters  appear  ;  and  the  trumpeters 
are  by  far  the  most  numerous,  while  upon  the  east* 
em  coasts  of  America  the  hoopers  are  the  sort  best 
known. 

"  The  swans  are  eagerly  hu*  ted,  both  by  the  Indiana 
and  white  hunters.  Their  skins,  with  the  quills  and 
down,  form  a  source  of  profit  to  the  natives  of  the  fur 
countries,  who  dispose  of  them  to  the  Hudson's  Bay 
Company.  !;n  some  years  as  many  as  ten  thousand 
skins  have  been  exported,  and  sold  at  the  rate  of  six 
or  seven  shillings  each.  Most  of  the  skins  thus  sold 
were  those  of  the  trumpeter  swans,  which  are  the 
most  numerous. 


ft: 


'^Sia»TOiBiMgMi>aia.iaaiMWMKWWKBfiMillh  -UrWiiWiirai 


II 


T^P 


t 


Ibl 


62 


THE  8WAKS   OF  AMERICA. 


if'  t 


"  Now,"  said  Lucien,  in  conclusion,  "  you  know  as 
much  about  the  swans  as  I  do;  so  I  shall  drop 
the  subject,  and  recommend  to  all  of  you  a  piece  of 
roast  swan,  which  is  now  just  done  to  a  turn,  and 
which  I  doubt  not  will  be  found  less  dry  thao  ny 
lecture* 


IH 


A  8WAN-HUMT  BY   TOBCHLIOBT. 


M 


CHAPTER  V. 


A  SWAN-HUNT  BY  TORCHLIGHT. 


A  VEW  days  brought  our  travellers  tc  the  settle* 
munt  of  Red  River,  where  they  made  but  a  very 
short  stay ;  and,  having  procured  a  few  articles  which 
they  stood  in  need  of,  they  resumed  their  journey,  and 
floated  on  towards  Lake  Winnipeg.  The  swans  were 
seen  in  greater  numbers  than  ever.  They  were  not 
less  shy,  however,  and  Fran9ois,  as  before,  in  vain 
tried  to  get  a  shot  at  one.  He  was  very  desirous  of 
bringing  down  one  of  these  noble  birds,  partly  be- 
cause the  taste  he  had  had  of  their  flesh  hau  given  him 
a  liking  for  it;  and  partly  because  their  shyness  had 
greatly  tantalized  uim.  One  is  always  more  eager 
to  kill  shy  game,  both  on  account  of  the  rarity  of  the 
thing,  and  the  credit  one  gets  for  his  expertness. 
But  the  voyageurs  had  now  got  within  less  than 
twenty  miles  of  Lake  Winnipeg,  and  Fran9ois  had 
not  as  yet  shot  a  single  swan.  It  was  not '.»  all  likely 
the  eagles  would  help  him  to  another,  -^o  there  would 
be  no  more  roast  swan  for  supper. 

Norman,  seeing  how  eager  Fran9ois  was  to  shooV 
rne  of  these  birds,  resolved  to  aid  him  by  his  advice. 

"  Cousin  Frank,"  said  he,  one  evening,  as  they 
floated  along,  "  you  wish  very  much  to  get  a  shot  at 
the  swans?*'  . 


64 


A   8WAN-HDNT   BT   TORCHLIGHT. 


"  I  do,"  replied  Frangois,  —  "  I  do ;  and  if  you  can 
tell  me  bow  to  accomplish  that  business,  I'll  make 
you  a  present  of  this  knife."  Here  Franyois  held  up 
a  very  handsome  clasp-knife  that  he  carried  in  hij 
pouch. 

A  knife  in  the  fur  countries  is  no  insignificant 
affair.  With  a  knife  you  may  sometimes  buy  a  horse, 
or  a  tent,  or  a  whole  carcass  of  beef,  or,  what  is 
stranger  still,  a  wife  I  To  the  hunter  in  these  wild 
regions  —  perhaps  a  thousand  miles  from  where  knives 
are  sold  —  such  a  thing  is  of  very  great  value  indeed ; 
but  the  knife  which  Franyois  oflfered  to  his  cousin  was 
a  particularly  fine  one,  and  the  latter  had  once  ex- 
pressed a  wish  to  become  the  owner  of  it.  He  was 
Lot  slow,  therefore,  in  accepting  the  conditions. 

"  Well,"  rejoined  he,  "  you  must  consent  to  travel  a 
few  miles  by  night,  and  I  think  I  can  promise  you 
a  shot  at  the  trumpeters  —  perhaps  several." 

"  What  say  you,  brothers  ? "  asked  Fran9ois,  ap- 
pealing to  Basil  and  Lucien;  ''shall  we  have  the 
Bport  ?     Say  yes." 

"  O,  I  have  no  objection,"  said  Lucien. 

"  Nor  I,"  added  Basil.  "  On  the  contrary,  I  should 
Bke  it  above  all  things.  I  wish  very  much  to  know 
what  plan  our  cousin  shall  adopt.  I  never  heard  of 
any  mode  of  approaching  these  birds." 

"  Very  well,  then,"  answered  Norman,  "  I  shall 
have  the  pleasure  of  instructing  you  in  a  way  that  is 
in  use  in  these  parts  among  the  Indians,  who  hunt  the 
swan  for  its  skin  and  quills,  which  they  trade  to  us 
at  the  post.  We  can  manage  it  to-night,  I  think," 
continued  he,  looking  up  at  the  sky:  there  is  n« 


A    BWAN-HUMT   B¥   TOBCHLIGHT. 


5a 


moon,  and  the  sky  is  thick.    Yes,  it  will  be  dark 
enough." 

"  Is  it  necessary  the  night  should  be  a  dark  one  ? ' 
asked  Fran9ois. 

"  The  darker  the  better,"  replied  Norman.  **  To 
night,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  will  be  as  black  as  pitdi 
But  we  need  to  make  some  preparations.  It  is  neai 
sundown,  and  we  shall  have  just  time  to  get  ready  foi 
*J\e  business.  Let  us  get  ashore,  then,  as  quickly  as 
possible." 

"  O,  certainly  —  let  us  land,"  replied  all  Uiree  at 
once. 

The  canoe  was  now  turned  to  the  shore ;  and  when 
it  bod  arrived  within  a  few  feet  of  the  land,  it  was 
brought  to  a  stop.  Its  keel  was  not  allowed  to  toucli 
the  bottom  of  the  river,  as  that  would  have  injured 
the  little  craft.  The  great'^s*  precaution  is  always 
obs  jrved  both  in  landing  and  embarking  these  vessels. 
The  voyageurs  first  get  out  and  wade  to  the  shore^ 
one  or  two  remaining  to  hold  the  canoe  in  its  place. 
The  cargo,  whatever  it  be,  is  then  taken  out  and  land- 
ed ;  and  after  that,  the  canoe  itself  is  lifted  out  of  the 
water,  and  carried  ashore,  where  it  is  set,  bottom  up- 
ward, to  dry.  The  birch-bark  canoe  is  so  frail  a 
structure,  that  were  it  brought  rudely  in  contact  either 
with  the  bottom  or  the  bank,  it  would  be  very  much 
damaged,  or  might  go  to  pieces  altogether.  Hence 
the  care  with  which  it  is  handled.  It  is  dangerous, 
also,  to  stand  upright  in  it,  as  it  is  so  "  crank  "  that  it 
would  easily  turn  over,  and  spill  both  canoe-men  and 
cargo  into  the  water.  The  voyageurs,  therefore,  when 
once  they  have  got  in,  remain  seated  during  the  whole 


1!' 


A6 


A    SWAlf-HUNT   BT   TOBCHMGBT. 


passage,  shifting  about  as  little  as  they  can  help 
When  landed  for  the  night,  the  canoe  is  always  takea 
out  of  the  water  as  described.  The  bark  is  of  a 
somewhat  spongy  nature ;  and  if  left  in  the  water  for 
m  length  of  time,  would  become  soaked  and  heavy, 
and  would  not  run  so  weU.  When  kept  all  night,  bot- 
tom upward,  it  drips  and  becomes  dryer  and  lighter. 
In  the  morning,  at  the  commencement  of  the  day's 
journey,  it  sits  higher  upon  the  water  than  in  the 
afternoon  and  eyening,  and  is  at  that  time  more  easily 
paddled  along. 

Our  voyageurs,  having  got  on  shore,  first  kindled  a 
fire  to  cook  their  supper.  This  they  intended  to  de- 
spatch earlier  than  usual,  so  as  to  give  them  the  early 
part  of  the  night  for  their  swan-hunt,  which  they 
expected  to  finish  before  midnight.  Lncien  did  the 
cooking,  while  Norman,  assisted  by  Basil  and  Fran- ' 
(ois,  made  his  preparati<ms  for  the  hunt  Fran9ois, 
who  was  more  interested  in  the  result  than  any  of 
them,  watched  every  movement  of  his  cousin.  Noth- 
ing escaped  him. 

Norman  proceeded  as  follows :  — 

He  walked  off  into  the  woods,  accompanied  by 
Francois.  After  going  about  a  hundred  yards  or  so, 
he  stopped  at  the  foot  of  a  certain  tree.  The  tree  was 
a  birch  —  easily  distinguishect  by  its  smooth,  silvery 
bark.  By  means  of  his  sharp  hunting-knife  he  "  gir- 
dled "  tnis  tree  near  the  ground,  and  then  higher  up, 
so  that  the  length  between  the  two  "  girdlings,"  or  cir- 
cular cuttings,  was  about  four  feet.  He  then  made  a 
longitudmal  incision  by  drawing  the  point  of  his  knife 
from  one  circle  to  the  other.    This  done,  h<;  inserte<l 


A  BWAK-QCKT  BT  TOBCHLIOHT. 


M 


the  blade  under  the  bark,  and  peeled  it  off,  as  h« 
would  have  taken  the  skin  from  a  buffalo.  The  tre« 
was  a  foot  in  diameter,  consequently  the  barR,  when 
stripped  off  and  spread  flat,  was  about  three  feet  in 
width ;  for  you  must  remember  that  the  circumference 
of  a  circle  or  cylinder  is  always  about  three  times  the 
length  of  its  diameter,  and  therefore  a  tree  is  three 
times  as  much  "  round"  as  it  is  **  through." 

They  now  returned  to  the  camp-fire,  taking  along 
¥rith  them  the  piece  of  bark  that  had  been  cut  off 
This  was  spread  out,  though  not  quite  flat,  still  leav- 
ii^  it  somewhat  curved.  The  convex  side,  that  which 
had  lain  towards  the  tree,  was  now  blackened  with 
pulverized  charcoal,  which  Nonnan  had  dire^d  Basil 
to  prepare  for  the  purpose ;  and  to  the  bark  at  one 
end  was  fastened  a  stake  or  shaft.  Nothing  more 
remained  but  to  fix  this  stake  in  the  canoe,  in  an  up- 
right  position  near  the  bow,  and  in  such  a  way  that 
the  bottom  of  the  piece  of  bark  would  be  upon  a  level 
with  the  seats,  with  its  hollow  side  looking  forward. 
It  would  thus  form  a  screen,  and  prevent  those  in  the 
canoe  from  being  seen  by  any  creature  that  might  be 
ahead. 

When  all  this  had  been  arranged,  Norman  shoul- 
dered the  axe,  and  again  walked  off  into  the  woods. 
This  time  his  object  was  to  obtain  a  quantity  of  "  knots  " 
of  the  pitch-pine  {Pinns  rtgida),  which  he  knew 
would  most  likely  be  found  in  such  a  situation.  The 
tree  was  soon  discovered,  and  pointed  out  to  Fran9ois, 
who  accompanied  him  as  before.  Francois  saw  that 
it  was  a  tree  of  about  fifty  feet  in  height,  and  a  foot 
in  diameter  at  its  base.  Its  bark  was  thick,  very  dark 


58 


A    CWAN-HUNT  BT  TOBGHLIOHT. 


hi  the  color,  and  full  of  cracks  or  fissures.  Its  leaves, 
or  "  needles,"  were  about  three  inches  long,  and  grew 
in  threes,  each  three  forming  a  little  bunch,  bound 
together  at  its  base  bj  a  brownish  sheath.  Those 
bunches,  in  botanical  language,  are  termed  "  fasciles." 
The  cones  were  somewhat  shorter  than  the  leavesi 
nearly  of  the  shape  of  eggs,  and  clustered  together  in 
threes  and  fours.  Fran9ois  noticed  that  the  tree  was 
thickly  branched,  and  therefore  there  are  many  knots 
in  the  wood.  For  this  reason  it  is  not  of  much  use 
as  timber ;  h'tt  on  account  of  the  resin  which  it  con* 
tains,  it  is  the  best  species  for  firewood ;  and  for  that 
purpose  it  is  used  id  all  parts  of  the  United  States, 
where  it  grows.  Most  of  the  pine  wood  sold  for  fuel 
in  the  large  cities  of  America  is  the  wood  of  this 
species. 

Fran9ois  supposed  that  his  companion  was  about  to 
fell  one  of  the  trees.  He  was  mistaken,  however; 
Norman  had  no  such  intention ;  he  had  only  stopped 
before  one  to  examine  it,  and  make  sure  that  it  was 
the  species  he  was  in  search  of.  He  was  soon  satis- 
tied  of  this,  and  moved  on,  directing  his  eyes  along 
the  ground.  Again  he  stopped ;  but  this  time  it  was 
by  a  tree  that  had  already  fallen  —  blown  down,  per- 
haps, by  the  wind.  It  was  half  decayed;  but  Fran- 
91.  is  could  see  that  it  was  one  of  the  same  f  pedes— 
the  pitch-pine. 

This  was  the  very  thing  Norman  wanted,  and  ply* 
iiig  his  axe,  he  soon  knocked  out  a  large  quantity 
of  the  resinous  knots.  These  ht  at  length  collected, 
and  putting  them  into  a  bag,  returned  with  Fraii9oiB 
to  the  fire.  He  then  announced  that  he  had  no  fup> 
ther  preparations  to  make. 


, 


A.   8WAN-H17NT   BT  TORCHLIGHT. 


69 


All  four  now  sat  down  to  supper,  which  consisted 
of  dry  meat,  with  biscuits  and  coffee ;  and,  as  their 
appetites  were  sharpened  by  their  water  journey,  tliey 
made  a  hearty  meal  of  it. 

As  soon  as  they  had  finished  eating,  the  canoe  was 
launched  and  got  ready.  The  screen  of  birch-baric 
was  set  up,  by  lashing  its  shaft  to  the  bottom  timbers, 
and  also  to  one  of  the  seats.  Immediately  in  front  of 
this,  and  out  upon  the  bow,  was  placed  the  frying- 
pan ;  and  this  having  been  secured  by  being  tied  at 
the  handle,  was  filled  with  dry  pine-knots,  ready  to 
be  kindled  at  a  moment's  notice.  These  arrangements 
being  made,  the  hunters  only  awaited  the  darkness  to 
set  forth. 

In  the  progre  of  their  hunt  they  would  be  carried 
still  farther  dowu-stream ;  but  as  that  was  the  direc- 
tion in  which  they  were  travelling,  they  would  only 
be  progressing  on  their  journey,  and  thus  "  killing  two 
birds  with  one  stone."  This  was  altogether  a  very 
pleasant  consideration  ;  and,  having  stowed  every 
thing  snugly  in  the  canoe,  they  sat  chatting  agreeably, 
and  waiting  for  the  arrival  of  night 

Night  came  at  length,  and,  as  Norman  had  predict- 
ed, it  was  as  "  dark  as  pitch."  Stepping  gently  into 
the  canoe,  and  seating  themselves  in  their  respective 
places,  they  pushed  out  and  commenced  floating  down- 
stream. Norman  sat  near  the  bow,  in  order  to  attend 
to  his  torch  of  pine-knots.  Fran9ois  was  next  to  him, 
holding  his  double-barrel,  loaded  with  buck-shot,  which 
is  the  same  size  as  that  used  for  swans,  and  in  Eng- 
land is  even  known  as  "  swan-shot." 

Next  came  Basil  with  his  rifle.    He  sat  near  Fnci' 


tm 


A  8WA5-HUWT  Bl   TORCHLIGHT. 


9018,  just  bj  the  middle  of  the  little  vessel.  Lncfen, 
who  was  ah(^ther  a  man  of  peace  principles,  and 
but  little  of  a  shot  compared  with  either  of  his 
brothers,  handled  the  oar,  —  not  to  propel  the  canoe, 
but  merely  to  guide  it.  In  this  way  the  party  floated 
on  in  silence. 

Norman  soon  kindled  his  torch,  which  now  cast  it» 
red  glare  over  the  surface  of  the  river,  extending  its 
flery  radii  even  to  the  banks  on  both  sides  of  the 
■tream.  The  trees  that  overhung  the  water  seemed 
tinged  with  vermilion,  and  the  rippling  wave  sparkled 
like  liquid  gold.  The  light  only  extended  over  a 
Bemicircle.  From  the  manner  in  which  the  torch  was 
placed,  its  light  did  not  fall  upon  the  other  half  of  the 
circle,  and  this,  by  contrast,  appeared  even  darker 
than  it  would  otherwise  have  done. 

The  advantage  of  the  plan  which  Norman  had 
adopted  was  at  once  apparent  to  all.  Ahead  of  the 
canoe  the  whole  river  was  plainly  seen  for  a  distance 
of  several  hundred  yards.  No  object  larger  than  a 
cork  could  have  floated  on  its  surface,  without  being 
visible  to  those  in  the  vessel  —  much  less  the  great 
white  body  of  a  trumpeter  swan.  Astern  of  the  canoe, 
on  the  other  hand,  all  was  pitchy  darkness,  and  any 
one  looking  at  the  vessel  from  a  position  ahead  could 
have  seen  nothing  but  the  bright  torch  and  the  black 
uniform  surface  behind  it.  As  I  have  already  stated, 
the  convex  side  of  the  bark  was  towards  the  blaze, 
and  the  pan  containing  the  torch  being  placed  close 
in  to  the  screen,  none  of  the  light  could  possibly  fall 
upon  the  forms  of  those  within  the  canoe.  They  were 
therefore  invisible  to  any  creature  from  the  front,  whil« 
they  themselves  could  see  everj  thing  before  them. 


A   8WAN-HUNT   Wf  TORCHLIGHT. 


<1 


Two  questions  yet  remained  unanswered.  First,  — 
would  our  hunters  find  any  swans  on  the  river? 
Second,  —  if  they  should,  would  th(;se  birds  allow 
themsolves  to  be  approached  near  enough  to  be  shot 
at  ?  The  fii-st  question  Norman,  of  course,  could  not 
answer.  That  was  a  matter  beyond  his  knowledge 
or  control.  The  swans  might  or  might  not  appear, 
but  it  was  to  be  hoped  they  would.  It  was  likely 
enough.  Many  had  been  seen  on  the  preceding  day, 
and  why  not  then?  To  the  second  question,  the 
young  Canadian  gave  a  definite  reply.  He  assured 
his  cousins  that,  if  met  with,  the  birds  would  be  easily 
approached  in  this  manner ;  he  had  often  hunted  them 
80.  They  would  either  keep  their  place,  and  remain 
until  the  light  came  very,  near  them,  or  they  would 
move  towards  it  (as  he  had  many  times  known  them 
to  do),  attracted  by  curiosity  and  the  novelty  of  the 
spectacle.  He  had  hunted  deer  in  the  same  manner ; 
he  had  shot,  he  said,  hundreds  of  th€se  animals  upon 
the  banks  of  ri'^ers,  where  they  had  come  down  to 
the  water  to  drink,  i-nd  stood  gazing  at  the  light. 

His  cousins  could  well  credit  his  statements.  They 
themselves  had  hunted  deer  by  torchlight  in  the  woods 
of  Louisiana,  where  it  is  termed  "  tire-hunting.''  They 
had  killed  several  in  this  way.  The  creatures,  as  if 
held  by  some  fascination,  would  stand  with  head  erect, 
looking  at  the  torch  carried  by  one  of  the  party,  while 
the  other  took  sight  between  their  glancing  eyes  and 
lirad  the  deadly  bullet.  Remembering  this,  they  could 
easily  bell^jve  that  the  swans  might  act  in  a  similoi 
manner. 

It  wag  not  long  until  they  were  convinced  o£  it  bj 


«2 


A    SWAN-HUNT   BT   TORCHLIGHT. 


actual  experience.  As  the  canoe  rounded  a  bend  in 
the  river,  three  largt  white  objects  appeared  in  the 
^  reach  "  before  them.  A  single  glance  satisfied  all 
tliat  they  were  swans,  though,  in  the  deceptive  glare 
of  the  torch,  they  appeared  even  larger  than  swans. 
Their  long  upright  necks,  however,  convinced  the 
party  they  could  be  nothing  else,  and  the  canoe  was 
headed  directly  for  them. 

As  our  hunters  approached,  one  of  the  birds  was 
heard  to  utter  his  strange  trumpet  note,  and  this  he 
repeated  at  intervals  as  they  drew  nearer. 

"  I  have  heard  that  they  sing  before  death,"  mut« 
tered  Fran9oi3  to  Basil,  who  sat  nearest  him.  "  If 
80, 1  hope  that's  the  song  itself ; "  and  Fran9ois  laughed 
quietly  at  the  joke  he  had  perpetrated. 

Basil  also  laughed ;  and  Lucien,  who  had  over- 
heard the  remark,  could  not  restrain  himself  from 
joining  in  the  laughter. 

"I  fear  not,"  rejoined  Basil;  "there  is  hardly 
enough  music  in  the  note  to  call  it  a  song.  They 
may  live  to  *  blow  their  own  trumpet '  a  long  while 
yet." 

This  remark  called  forth  a  fresh  chorus  of  laughter, 
in  which  all  took  part ;  but  it  was  a  very  silent  kind 
of  laughter,  that  could  not  have  been  heard  ten  yards 
ofi':  it  might  have  been  termed  "laughing  in  a 
whisper." 

It  soon  ended,  however,  as  matters  now  became 
serious.  They  were  already  within  less  than  two 
hundred  yards  of  the  game,  and  the  greatest  caution 
had  to  be  observed.  The  gunners  had  arranged  the 
order  of  fire :    Basil  was  to  shoot  first,  taking  steady 


8WAN-nUNT   ^T   TORCHLIGHT. 


aim  with  his  rifle  at  any  one  of  the  birds ;  while 
Fraii9ois  should  fire  as  soon  as  he  heard  the  report  of 
bis  brother's  gun,  taking  the  remaining  swans  upon 
the  wing,  with  one  or  both  barreb,  as  he  best  might. 

At  length  Basil  deemed  himself  near  enough,  and, 
Icvellin:  his  piece,  fired.  The  bird  threw  out  its 
wings,  and  flattened  down  upon  the  water,  almost 
without  a  struggle.  The  other  two  were  rising  into 
the  air,  when  "  crack !  crack ! "  went  the  two  barrels 
of  Fran9ois'  piece,  and  one  of  the  swans  fell  back  with 
a  broken  vring,  and  fluttered  over  the  surface  of  the 
stream.  Basil's  had  been  shot  dead,  and  was  taken 
up  easily  •  but  the  wounded  bird  was  only  captured 
after  i  lor  ^  chase  with  the  canoe ;  and  when  over- 
taken, it  struck  so  fiercely  with  its  remaining  wing, 
that  one  of  the  blows  inflicted  a  painful  wound  on  the 
wrist  of  Fran9ois.  Both,  however,  were  at  length 
got  safely  aboard,  and  proved  to  be  a  male  and  fenuUfi 
of  the  largest  dimensions. 


Ill 


hi 


M 


64 


"CAST  AWAT." 


•i 


('I 


CHAPTER  VI. 


"CAST  AWAY." 


Of  course,  the  reports  of  the  guiis  muat  hava 
frightened  any  other  swans  that  were  near.  It  was 
not  likely  they  would  find  any  more  before  going  some 
distance  farther -down  the  river;  so,  having  stowed 
away  in  a  safe  place  the  two  already  killed,  the  hunt- 
er pfwidled  rapidly  onward. 

laey  had  hardly  gone  half  a  mile  farther,  when 
another  flock  of  swans  was  discovered.  These  were 
approached  in  a  similar  way,  and  no  less  than  three 
were  obtained  —  Francois  making  a  remarkable  shot, 
and  killing  with  both  barrels.  A  little  farther  down, 
one  of  the  "  hoopers  "  was  killed  ;  and  still  farther  on, 
another  trumpeter,  making  in  all  no  less  than  seven 
swans  that  lay  dead  in  the  bottom  of  the  canoe  I 

These  seven  great  birds  almost  filled  the  little  craft 
to  the  gunwales,  and  you  would  think  that  our  "  torch- 
hunters  "  ought  to  have  been  content  with  such  a  spoil ; 
but  the  hunter  is  hard  to  satisfy  with  game,  and  but 
too  often  inclined  to  "  spill  much  more  blood  "  than  ia 
necessary  to  his  wants.  Our  voyageurs,  instead  of 
desisting,  again  set  the  canoe  in  motion,  and  continued 
the  hunt. 

A  short  distance  below  the  place  where  they  had 
«oot  the  last  swan,  as  they  were  rounding  a  bend  in 


CA81    A  WAT. 


«5 


the  river,  a  loud  rushing  sounded  in  their  ears,  similar 
to  that  produced  by  a  cascade  or  waterfall.  On  first 
hearing  it,  they  were  startled  and  somewhat  alarmed. 
It  n>ight  be  a  "  fall,"  thought  they.  Norman  could 
not  tell :  he  had  never  travelled  this  route ;  he  did 
not  know  whether  there  were  falls  in  the  Red  River 
or  not,  but  he  believed  not.  In  his  voyage  to  the 
South,  he  had  travelled  by  another  route ;  that  was, 
up  the  Winnipeg  River,  and  through  Rainy  Lake  and 
the  Lake  of  the  Woods  to  Lake  Superior.  This  is 
the  usual  and  well-known  track  followed  by  the  em- 
ployes  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company ;  and  Norman 
had  travelled  it. 

In  this  uncertainty  the  canoe  was  brought  to  a  stop, 
and  our  voyageurs  remained  listening.  The  noise 
made  by  the  water  wa^  noi  very  distant,  and  sounded 
like  the  roaring  of  "  rapids,"  or  the  rush  of  a  "  fall." 
It  was  evidently  one  or  the  other ;  but,  after  listening 
to  it  for  a  considerable  time,  all  came  to  the  conclu- 
sion that  the  sound  did  not  proceed  from  the  Red 
River  itself,  but  from  some  stream  that  emptied  into 
it  upon  the  rieht.  With  this  belief  they  again  put 
the  canoe  in  motion,  and  glided  slowly  and  cautiously 
onward. 

Theii'  conjecture  proved  to  be  correct.  As  t!iey 
approached  nearer,  they  perceived  that  the  noise  ap» 
pearcd  every  moment  more  and  more  to  their  right ; 
and  presenty  they  saw,  below  them,  a  rapid  current 
Bwecping  into  the  Red  River  from  the  right  bank. 
This  was  easily  distingriished  by  the  wkite  froth  and 
bubbles  that  were  carried  along  upon  its  surface,  and 
vhi:*i  had  evidently  been  produced  by  some  fall  ovet 


66 


♦•cast  aw  At.** 


m 


which  the  water  had  lately  passed.  The  hunters  no4» 
rowed  fearlessly  forward,  and  in  a  few  moments  came 
opposite  the  debotichure  of  the  tributary  stream,  when 
a  considerable  cascade  appeared  to  their  view,  not 
thirty  yards  from  the  Red  River  itself.  The  water 
foeuned  and  dashed  over  a  series  of  steps,  and  then 
swept  rapidly  on,  in  a  frothy  current.  They  had  en- 
tered this  current,  and  were  now  carried  along  with 
increased  velocity,  so  that  the  oarsmen  suspended 
operations,  and  drew  their  paddles  within  the  canoe. 

A  flock  of  swans  now  drew  their  attention.  It  waa 
the  largest  flock  they  had  yet  seen,  numbering  nearly 
a  score  of  these  noble  birds, —  a  sight,  as  Norman 
informed  them,  that  was  exceedingly  rai'e  even  in  the 
most  favored  haunts  of  the  swan.  Rarely  are  more 
than  six  or  seven  seen  together,  and  oftener  only  two  or 
three.  A  grand  coup  was  determined  upon.  Norman 
took  up  his  own  gun,  and  even  Lucien,  who  managed 
the  stem  oar,  and  guided  the  craft,  also  brought  his 
piece  —  a  very  small  rifle  —  close  to  his  hand,  so  that 
he  might  have  a  shot  as  well  as  the  others. 

The  canoe  was  directed  in  such  a  manner  that,  by 
merely  keeping  its  head  down  the  stream,  it  would 
float  to  the  spot  where  the  swans  were. 

In  a  short  \»i  s  they  approached  very  near  the 
great  birds,  and  our  hunters  could  see  them  sitting  on 
the  water,  with  upraised  necks,  gazing  in  wonder  at 
the  torch.  Whether  they  sounded  their  strange  note 
was  not  kuDwn,  for  the  "  sough"  of  the  waterfall  still 
echoed  in  the  ears  of  the  canoe-men,  and  they  could 
not  hear  aught  else, 

Basil  and  Noi'man  fired  first,  and  simultaneousljr 


V 


"CAST  AWAY." 


e7 


but  the  louder  detonations  of  Franjois'  double-barrel, 
and  even  the  tiny  crack  of  Lucien's  rifle,  were  heard 
almost  the  instant  after.  Three  of  the  birds  were 
killed  by  the  volley,  while  a  fourth,  evidently  "  winged,'* 
was  seen  to  dive,  and  flutter  down-stream.  The 
others  mounted  into  the  air,  and  disappeared  in  the 
darkness. 

During  the  time  occupied  in  this  manoeuvre,  the 
canoe,  no  longer  guided  by  Lucien's  oar,  had  been 
caught  by  some  eddy  in  the  current,  and  swept  round 
stern-foremost.  In  this  position  the  light  no  longer 
shone  upon  the  river  ahead,  but  was  thrown  up-stream. 
All  in  a  downward  direction  was  buried  in  deep  dark- 
ness. Before  the  voyageurs  could  bring  the  canoe 
back  to  its  proper  direction,  a  new  sound  fell  upon 
their  ears  that  caused  some  of  them  to  utter  a  cry  of 
terror.  It  was  the  noise  of  rushing  water,  but  not 
that  which  they  had  already  heard  and  passed.  It 
was  before  them  in  the  river  itself.  Perhaps  it  was 
a  cataract,  and  they  were  sweeping  rapidly  to  its 
brink  ! 

The  voice  of  Norman  was  heard  exclaiming,  "  Hold 
with  your  oars !  —  the  rapids !  —  the  rapids  I "  At 
the  same  time  he  himself  was  seen  rising  up  ani 
stretching  forward  for  an  oar.  AH  was  now  conster- 
nation ;  and  the  movements  of  the  party  naturally  con- 
sequent upon  such  a  sudden  panic  shook  the  little  craft 
until  her  gunwales  lipped  the  water.  At  the  same  time 
she  had  swung  round,  until  the  light  again  showed  the 
stream  ahead,  and  a  horrid  sight  it  was.  Far  as  the 
eye  could  see  was  a  reach  of  foaming  rapids.  Dark 
points  of  rocks,  and  huge  black  boulders,  thickly 


«» 


•»0A8T  AWAY.* 


i 


scattered  in  the  channel,  jutted  above  the  surface ;  and 
around  and  against  these,  the  water  frothed  and  hiss^.d 
furiously.  There  was  no  cataract,  it  is  true  —  therti 
is  none  such  in  Red  River — but  for  all  purposes  of 
destruction  the  rapids  before  them  were  equally  dan- 
gerous and  terrible  to  the  eyes  of  our  voyageurs 
They  no  longer  thought  of  the  swans.  The  dead  were 
permitted  to  float  down  unheeded,  the  wounded  to 
make  its  escape.  Their  only  thought  was  to  stop  the 
canoe  before  it  should  be  carried  upon  the  rapids. 

With  this  intent  all  had  taken  to  the  oars,  but  in 
gpite  of  every  exertion  they  soon  found  that  the  light 
craft  had  got  within  the  influence  of  t^e  strong  cur^ 
rent,  and  was  sucked  downward  more  rapidly  than 
ever.    Their  backward  strokes  were  to  no  purpose. 

In  a  few  seconds  the  canoe  had  passed  over  the 
first  stage  of  the  rapids,  and  shot  down  with  the  ve- 
locity of  an  arrow.  A  huge  boulder  lay  directly  in 
the  middle  of  the  channel,  and  against  this  the  current 
broke  with  fury,  laving  its  sides  in  foaming  masses. 
The  canoe  was  hurried  to  this  point ;  and  as  the  light 
was  again  turned  up-stream,  none  of  the  voyageurs 
could  see  this  dangerous  rock.  But  they  could  not 
have  shunned  it  then.  The  boat  had  escaped  from 
their  control,  and  spun  round  at  will.  The  rock  once 
more  came  under  the  light,  but  just  as  the  canoe,  with 
a  heavy  crash,  wa-j  driven  against  it. 

For  some  moments  the  vessel,  pressed  by  the  cur- 
rent against  the  rock,  remained  motionless ;  but  her 
sides  were  stove  in,  and  the  water  was  rushing  through. 
The  quick  eye  of  Basil  —  cool  in  all  crises  of  extreme 
danger— 'perceived  this  at  a  glance.    He  saw  thai 


V- 


ii» 


•cast  away. 


69 


the  canoe  was  a  wreck,  and  nothing  remained  but  to 
save  themselves  as  they  best  might.  Dropping  the 
oar,  and  seizing  his  rifle,  he  called  to  his  companions 
to  leap  to  the  rock;  and  all  together  immediately 
sprang  over  the  gunwale.  The  dog  Marengo  followed 
after. 

The  canoe,  thus  lightened,  heeled  round  into  the 
current,  and  swept  on.  The  next  moment  she  struck 
another  rock,  and  was  carried  over  on  her  beams. 
The  water  then  rushed  in  —  the  white  bodies  of  the 
swans,  with  the  robes,  blankets,  and  implements,  rose 
on  the  wave ;  the  blazing  knots  were  spilled  from  the 
pan,  and  fell  with  a  hissing  sound ;  and  a  few  secondf 
tHw  they  were  extinguished,  and  all  was  daiknen  I 


( / 


r'> 


70 


A  BBIDOB   OF  BUCKSKHT. 


U 


ui 


CHAPTER   Vn. 
A  BRIDGE  OF  BUCKSKIN. 

The  canoe  was  lost,  and  all  it  had  contained,  or 
nearly  all.  The  voyageurs  had  saved  only  their 
guns,  tnives,  and  the  powder-horns  and  pouches,  thai 
had  been  attached  to  their  persons.  One  other  thing 
Lad  been  saved  —  an  axe  which  Basil  had  flung  upon 
the  rock  as  he  stepped  out  of  the  sinking  vessel.  AU 
the  rest  —  robes,  blankets,  swans,  cooking  utensils, 
bags  of  provisions,  such  as  coffee,  flour,  and  dried 
meat — were  lost  —  irrecoverably  lost.  These  had 
either  drifted  off  upon  the  surface,  or  been  carried 
under  water  and  hidden  among  the  loose  stones  at  the 
bottom.  No  matter  where,  they  were  lost ;  and  our 
voyageurs  now  stood  on  a  small  naked  rock  in  the 
middle  of  the  stream,  with  nothing  left  but  the  clothes 
upon  their  backs,  and  the  arms  in  their  hands.  Such 
was  their  condition. 

There  was  something  so  sudden  and  awful  in  the 
mishap  that  had  befallen  them,  that  for  some  minutes 
they  stood  upon  the  spot  where  they  had  settled 
without  moving  or  addressing  a  word  to  one  another. 
They  gazed  after  the  canoe.  They  knew  that  it  was 
wrecked,  although  they  could  see  notliing  either  of  it 
or  its  contents.  Thick  darkness  enveloped  them,  ren- 
dered more  intense  from  the  sudden  e:stinction  of  the 


'<  I 


▲   BBIDGE    OF   BUCKSKIN. 


71 


Lorcliliglil.  They  saw  nothing  but  the  foam  flickering 
along  the  risrcr,  like  the  ghosts  of  the  swans  they  had 
killed,  and  tuey  heard  only  the  roaring  of  the  water, 
that  sounded  in  their  ears  with  a  hoarse  and  melan- 
choly wail. 

For  a  long  time  they  stood  impressed  with  the  Iam< 
entable  condition  into  which  the  accident  had  plunged 
them ;  and  a  lamentable  condition  it  was,  sure  enough. 
They  were  on  a  small  rock  in  the  midst  of  a  rapid 
river.  They  were  in  the  midst  of  a  great  wilderness 
too,  many  long  miles  from  a  settlement.  The  nearest 
could  only  be  reached  by  travelling  through  pathless 
forests,  and  over  numerous  and  deep  rivers.  Impas- 
sable swamps,  and  lakes  with  marshy  shores,  lay  on 
the  route,  and  barred  the  direct  course,  and  all  this 
journey  would  have  to  be  made  on  foot 

But  none  of  our  young  voyageurs  were  of  that 
stamp  to  yield  themselves  to  despair.  One  and  all 
of  them  had  experienced  perils  before  —  greater  even 
than  that  in  which  they  now  stood.  As  soon,  there- 
fore, as  they  became  fully  satisfied  that  their  little 
vessel  was  wrecked,  and  all  its  contents  scattered, 
instead  of  despairing,  their  first  thoughts  were  kow  to 
make  the  best  of  their  situation. 

For  that  night,  at  least,  they  were  helpless.  They 
could  not  leave  the  rock.  It  was  surrounded  by  rap- 
ids. Sharp,  jagged  points  peeped  out  of  the  water, 
and  between  these  the  current  rushed  with  impetuosi- 
ty. In  the  darkness  no  humaii  being  could  have  crossed 
to  either  shore  in  safety.  To  attempt  it  would  have 
been  madness,  and  our  voyageurs  soon  came  to  thia 
oonchision     They  had  no  other  choice  tlian  to  remain 


73 


▲   BRIDOE    C7   BUCKSKIlf. 


%. 


'I  /' 


where  they  were  until  the  morning ;  so,  seating  them* 
selves  upon  the  rock,  thcj  prepared  to  pass  the  night 

They  sat  huddled  close  together.  They  could  nol 
he  down  —  there  was  not  room  enough  for  that.  They 
kept  awake  most  of  the  night,  one  or  other  of  them, 
overcome  by  fatigue,  occasionally  codding  over  in  a 
sort  of  half-sleep,  but  awaking  again  after  a  few  miii» 
utes'  uncomfortable  dreaming.  They  talked  but  little, 
AS  the  noise  of  the  rushing  rapids  rendered  conversa- 
tion painful.  To  be  heard,  they  were  under  the  ne- 
cessity of  shouting  to  one  another,  like  passengers  in 
an  omnibus.  It  was  cold,  too.  None  of  them  had 
been  much  wetted  in  escaping  from  the  canoe;  but 
they  had  saved  neither  overcoat,  blanket,  nor  buffalo* 
robe ;  and,  although  it  was  now  late  in  the  spring,  the 
nights  near  Lake  Winnipeg,  even  at  that  season,  are 
chilly.  They  were  above  the  latitude  of  50® ;  and 
^though  in  England,  which  is  on  that  parallel,  it  is 
not  very  cold  of  a  spring  night,  it  must  be  remembered 
that  the  line  of  equal  temperature — in  the  language 
of  meteorologists  the  "  isothermal  line  "  —  is  of  a  much 
lower  latitude  in  America  than  in  Europe. 

Another  fact  worth  remembering  is,  that  upon  the 
eastern  or  Atlantic  coast  of  the  American  Continent 
it  is  much  colder  in  the  same  latitude  than  on  the 
western  or  Pacific  side.  The  Pacific  "  sea-board  "  in 
its  climate  is  more  like  the  western  edge  of  the  old 
continent.  This  would  seem  to  indicate  that  the  cli- 
mate of  a  coast  country  is  much  influenced  by  the 
side  upon  which  the  ocean  lies,  whether  east  or  west 
This  in  reality  is  the  case,  for  you  may  observe  on 
your  map  thav  the  western  coasts  of  both  the  "oM 


»t 


A    BRIDGE   OF   BUCKSKIIT. 


7S 


vroild  "  and  the  "  new  "  are  somewhat  similarly  placed 
in  regard  to  their  oceans,  and  hence  the  similarity  of 
their  climates. 

There  are  many  other  causes  connected  with  this; 
■ich  as  the  direction  of  winds,  and  the  different  effects 
produced  by  them  on  the  atmosphere  when  they  have 
passed  over  water  or  over  land.  It  was,  and  is  still  by 
many  people  believed,  that  the  winds  are  produced  by 
the  air  becoming  heated  in  a  particular  place,  and 
then  ascending,  and  leaving  a  "  vacuum  "  into  which 
the  colder  air  rushes  from  all  sides  around.  This 
*  rushing,"  it  was  supposed,  made  the  wind.  To  somf 
extent  this  theory  is  true,  but  there  are  several  othei 
causes  that  operate  in  producing  wind.  Electri- 
city—  an  agent  hitherto  but  little  known,  but  one 
of  the  most  important  elements  of  our  earth  —  han 
much  to  do  with  the  winds ;  and  the  revolution  of  the 
earth  on  its  own  axis  has  also  an  influence  upon 
them.  Indeed  it  is  to  be  wondered  at,  that  mankind 
should  have  so  long  remained  satisfied  with  the  very 
unsatisfactory  theory  of  the  heated  air.  But  it  is  not 
to  be  wondered  at  either,  when  we  consider  how  little 
mankind  has  had  to  do  with  these  things  —  when  we 
consider  that  as  yet  nearly  every  country  upon  the 
face  of  the  globe  is  despotic ;  that  the  whole  time  of 
the  great  body  of  the  people  is  occupied  in  a  struggle 
for  life  —  occupied  in  toiling  for  a  few,  who  by  the 
most  cunning  devices  rob  them  of  the  fruits  of  their 
toils  —  rob  them  so  skilfully  that  the  poor  blinded 
masses  have  grown  to  consider  eternal  toil  as  the 
natural  state  of  man  —  nay  more,  are  ready  to  perse- 
cute him  who  would  elevate  them,  and  worship  him 


74 


▲   BRIDGE    OI    BUCK8K1K. 


fc 


who  woulJ  sink  lliem  deeper  in  baseness  ftnd  lond 
age ;  —  when  we  reflect  on  this  almost  hopeless  dark- 
ness of  soul  that  has  marked  the  history  of  the  past, 
and  is  too  much  the  character  of  the  present,  we  need 
not  wonder  that  so  few  have  had  either  leisure  or  in- 
clination to  yield  themselves  to  the  acquirement  or 
prosecution  of  scientific  knowledge.  "The  wincL 
have  blown  where  they  listed,  and  we  have  heard  the 
80und  thereof,"  but  men  absorbed  in  the  hard  struggle 
of  life  have  found  but  little  time  to  inquire  "  whence 
they  come  or  whither  they  go." 

The  people  of  the  United  States  are  yet  but  par- 
tially free.  They  still  inherit,  from  customs  and  pre- 
judices, the  fruits  of  an  ancestral  oppression,  and  a 
bondage  of  centuries  of  duration.  But  even  their 
partial  freedom  has  already  shown  its  good  effects. 
At  this  moment  knowledge  is  progressing  faster 
among  these  people  than  any  other  on  the  face  of  the 
earth.  Meteorology  begins  to  assume  the  palpable 
shape  of  an  exact  science.  The  winds  are  being  traced 
in  their  currents,  and  followed  through  all  their  wind- 
ings, by  Maury  and  other  men  of  talent ;  and  if  you 
live  twenty  years  longer  (and  I  hope  you  may  live 
three  times  as  many  years),  you  will,  no  doubt,  bo 
able  to  tell  "  whence  the  wind  cometh  and  whither  it 
goeth." 

Well,  we  began  this  politico-scientific  discussion  by 
observing  that  it  is  very  cold  in  the  latitude  of  Lake 
Winnipeg,  even  in  late  spring.  Only  at  night  though  • 
the  days  are  sometimes  so  hot  there  that  you  might 
fancy  yourself  in  the  tropics.  These  extremes  ar« 
Rhaiucteri^tic  of  the  climate  of  aU  Ameyicaa  coun 


I J 


A   BRIDGE    OF   Bl     KSKIN. 


7A 


/  ■> 


IricB,  and  particularly  those  that  lie  at  a  distance  froin 
the  sea-coast. 

Our  voyageurs  were  chilled  to  the  very  bones,  and 
of  course  glad  to  see  the  daylight  glimmering  through 
the  top 3  of  the  trees  that  grew  upon  the  banks  of  the 
river.  As  soon  as  day  broke,  they  began  to  consider 
how  they  would  reach  those  trees.  Although  swim- 
ming a  river  of  that  width  would  have  been  to  any 
of  the  four  a  mere  bajratelle,  they  saw  that  it  was  not 
to  be  80  easy  an  affair.  Had  they  been  upon  either 
bank,  they  could  have  crossed  to  the  other  without 
difficulty  —  as  they  would  have  chosen  a  place  where 
the  water  was  comparatively  still.  On  the  rock  they 
had  no  choice,  as  the  rapids  extended  on  both  sides 
above  and  below  it  Between  the  boulders  the  current 
rushed  so  impetuously,  that  had  they  attempted  to 
swim  to  either  bank,  they  would  have  been  carried 
downward,  and  perhaps  dashed  with  violence  against 
one  or  other  of  the  sharp  stones. 

As  soon  as  it  was  light,  they  saw  all  this;  not 
without  feelings  of  apprehension  and  uneasiness. 
Their  whole  attention  was  now  occupied  with  the 
one  object  —  how  they  should  get  to  the  bank  of  the 
river. 

The  right  bank  was  the  more  distant ;  but  the  pas- 
sage in  that  direction  appeared  the  easier  one.  Tha 
current  was  not  so  swift,  nor  yet  did  it  seem  so  deep. 
They  thought  they  might  ford  it,  and  Basil  made  the 
attempt ;  but  he  soon  got  beyond  his  depth,  and  waa 
obliged,  after  being  carried  off  his  feet,  to  swim  up 
under  the  lee  of  the  rock  again. 

From  the  rock  to  the  right  bank  was  about  i 


,!    I    W 


76 


A   BRIDGE    OF   BUCKSKIIf. 


i  1/ 


hundred  yarda'  distance.  Here  and  there,  at  inrgulai 
intervals,  sliarp,  jagged  stones  rose  above  the  surfacei 
some  of  them  projecting  tliree  feet  or  more  out  of  the 
water,  and  looking  very  much  like  upright  tomb- 
stones. Lucien  had  noticed  these,  and  expressed  the 
opinion  that  if  they  only  had  a  rope,  they  might  fling 
it  over  one  of  these  stones,  and  then,  holding  it  fast 
at  the  other  end,  might  pass  by  that  means  from  one 
to  the  other. 

The  suggestion  was  a  good  one,  but  where  was  the 
rope  to  come  from?  All  their  ropes  and  cords  — 
lassoes  and  all  —  had  been  swept  away  in  the  wreck. 
Not  a  string  remained,  except  those  that  fastened 
their  horns,  flasks,  and  other  accoutrements;  and 
these  were  only  small  thongs,  and  would  be  of  no  use 
for  such  a  purpose.  It  would  require  a  rope  strong 
enough  to  carry  the  weight  of  a  man  impelled  by  a 
rapid  current —  in  fact,  a  weight  equal  to  that  of  sev- 
eral men.  They  all  set  to  thinking  how  this  was  to 
be  obtained.  Each  looked  at  the  other,  and  scanned 
the  straps  and  thongs  that  were  around  their  bodies. 
They  were  satisfied  at  a  glance  that  these  would  not 
be  sufficient  to  make  such  a  rope  as  was  wanted. 
They  did  not  give  up  the  hope  of  being  able  to  obtain 
one.  They  were  all  of  them  accustomed  to  resort  to 
strange  expedients,  and  a  sufficiently  strange  one  now 
suggested  itself.  Basil  and  Norman  seemed  to  have 
thought  of  it  at  the  same  time,  for  both  at  once  un 
buckled  their  straps,  and  commenced  pulling  off  theb 
buckskm  hunting-shirts.  The  others  said  nothing,  aa 
they  knew  well  what  they  were  going  to  do  with 
them  —  they  knew  they  intended  cutting  them  into 
Btrips.  and  then  twisting  a  rope  out  of  them. 


u 


A    BRIUOE    OF   BUCKS&m. 


77 


u 


All  hur  eet  to  work  together.  Lucien  and  Fran* 
;ois  hbld  the  shirts  taut,  while  Basil  and  Norman 
bandied  the  knives,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the  rock 
was  covered  with  strips  of  buckskin  about  two  inches 
wide,  by  a  yard  or  so  in  length.  These  were  next 
joined  and  plaited  together  in  such  a  manner  that  a 
rope  was  formed  nearly  forty  feet  long.  An  eye  was 
made  at  one  end,  and  through  this  the  other  end  was 
reeved  —  so  that  a  running  noose  was  obtained,  iu 
the  same  manner  as  the  Mexicans  and  Indians  make 
their  lassoes.  The  rope  was  now  ready  for  use,  and 
Basil  was  the  very  hand  to  use  it ;  for  Basil  knew 
how  to  fling  a  lasso  as  well  as  either  Mexican  or  In« 
dian.  He  had  practised  it  often,  and  had  lassoed 
many  a  long-homed  bull  upon  the  prairies  of  Ope- 
lousas  and  the  Attakapas.  To  Basil,  therefore,  the 
rope  was  given. 

He  placed  himself  on  the  highest  part  of  th^  rock, 
having  first  coiled  the  new-made  lasso,  and  hung  the 
coil  lightly  over  his  left  arm.  He  then  took  the 
noose-end  in  his  right  hand,  and  commenced  winding 
it  around  his  head.  His  companions  had  laid  them- 
selves flat,  so  as  not  to  be  in  the  way  of  the  noose  as 
it  circled  about.  After  a  few  turns  the  rope  was 
launched  forth,  and  a  loud  "  hurrah ! "  from  Fran9oi8 
announced  that  the  throw  was  successful.  It  was  so, 
m  fact,  as  the  noose  was  seen  settling  smoothly  over 
the  jutting  stone,  taking  full  hold  upon  it.  A  pull 
from  Basil  fixed  it ;  and  in  a  few  minutes  it  was  made 
quite  fast,  without  the  slightest  danger  of  its  slipping 
off.  The  other  end  was  then  carried  round  a  project- 
iDg  point  )f  the  rock  on  which  they  stood,  and  knotted 


78 


A   BRIDGE   OF   BUCKSKIIT. 


r 


*H 


firmly,  so  that  the  rope  wls  quite  taut,  and  stretcheJ 
in  ft  nearly  hori/.ontal  direction,  about  a  foot  aboro 
thfl  surface  of  the  water. 

The  voyageurs  now  prepared  to  cross  over.  Thel? 
guns,  pouches,  and  flasks  were  carefully  secured,  so 
that  the  water  could  not  damage  them.  Then  each 
took  a  piece  of  the  buckskin  thong,  and  fastened  it 
round  hie  waist,  leaving  enough  to  fonn  a  running 
loop.  This  loop  was  intended  to  embrace  the  rope, 
and  run  along  it,  as  they  drew  themselves  forward  by 
their  hands. 

Basil  passed  over  first.  He  was  the  oldest,  and, 
as  he  asserted,  it  was  but  right  he  should  run  the  risk 
in  testing  the  new-fashioned  bridge,  of  which  he  was 
the  architect.  It  worked  admirably,  and  sustained 
the  weight  of  his  body,  with  the  whole  force  of  the 
current  acting  upon  it.  Of  course  he  was  swept  far 
down,  and  the  rope  was  stretched  to  its  full  tension, 
but  he  succeeded  in  handing  himself  along,  until  ha 
was  able  to  touch  the  second  rock,  and  clambei'  upon 
it  in  safety.  During  the  passage  across  ae  waa 
watched  by  his  companions  with  emotions  of  'ao  ordi- 
nary character,  but  as  soon  as  he  had  reached  the  op- 
posite end  of  the  rope  all  three  uttered  a  loud  and 
simultaneous  cheer.  Lucien  passed  over  next,  and 
after  him  Fran9ois.  Notwithstanding  his  danger, 
Franfois  laughed  loudly  all  the  time  he  was  in  the 
water,  while  his  brothers  were  not  without  some  fears 
for  his  safety.  Marengo  was  next  attached  to  tho 
rope,  ana  pi:  i  led  safely  over. 

Norman  was  the  last  to  cross  upon  the  buck&kin 
ftridgo  but,  like  the  others,  he  landed  in  safety ;  and 


/  1 


A   BRIDGE    OF    BUCKSKIN. 


79 


the  fbur,  with  the  dog,  now  stood  upon  the  little  iso- 
lated boulder,  where  there  was  just  room  enough  to 
give  them  all  a  footing. 

A  difficulty  now  presented  itself,  which  they  had 
not  hitherto  thought  of.  Another  reach  of  rapid  cur- 
rent was  to  be  crossed,  before  they  could  safel;  "ust 
themselves  to  enter  the  water.  This  they  knew  b©» 
fore,  but  they  had  also  noticed  that  there  was  another 
jutting  rock,  upon  which  they  might  fling  their  rope, 
liut  the  rope  itself  was  now  the  difP.oulty.  It  was  fast 
at  both  end  s,  and  how  were  they  to  release  it  from  the 
rock  they  had  left?  One  of  them  could  easily  cross 
over  again  and  untie  it,  but  how  was  he  to  get  back 
to  the  others  ?  Here  was  a  dilemma  which  had  not 
presented  itself  before,  and  they  now  saw  themselves 
no  better  off  than  ever.  The  rapid  that  remained  to 
be  crossed,  was  as  dangerous  as  the  one  they  had  suc- 
ceeded in  passing.  There  was  no  hope  that  they  could 
swim  it  in  safety.  They  would  certainly  be  swept 
with  violence  against  the  rocks  below.  There  was  no 
chance,  then,  of  their  going  an  inch  farther  —  unless 
by  some  means  similar  to  that  they  had  just  used,  and 
tiie  rope  was  no  longer  at  their  service- 

For  some  time  tiiey  all  stood  silent,  each  co  isider- 
ing  the  matter  in  his  own  way.  How  oould  they  free 
th*  rope  ? 

'■  It  cannot  be  done,"  said  one. 

"  Impossible,"  rejoined  another.  «  We  must  make 
K  second  rope  "  Franfois'  shirt  still  remains,  and 
our  leggings  —  we  can  use  them." 

This  was  the  mode  suggested  by  Franjois  and  Nor- 
man^  and  Lucien  seemed  tc  assent  to  it.    They  had 


■■s 


A   BBID3K    or   BUCKSKIW. 


i  )  M 

I 


\ 


already  commenced  untying  their  legging:?,  when  htuA 
ottered  the  ejaculation  — 

"Stop!" 

"  Well,  what  is  it,  brother  ?  "  asked  Lucien. 

"  I  think  I  can  free  the  rope  at  the  other  end.  At 
all  events,  let  me  try.  It  will  not  cost  much,  either  in 
time  or  trouble." 

"  How  do  you  mean  to  do  it,  brother  ?  " 

*'  Sit  close,  all  of  you.  Give  me  room  —  you  shaD 
gee  presently." 

As  directed  by  Basil,  they  all  cowered  closely 
down,  so  as  to  occupy  as  little  space  as  possible. 
Basil,  having  uncovered  the  lock  of  his  rifle  —  which 
had  been  carefully  bound  up  in  a  piece  of  deer's  blad- 
der —  placed  himself  in  a  firm  position,  and  appeared 
as  if  about  to  fire.  Such  was  his  intention  —  for  in 
a  few  moments  he  was  seen  to  raise  the  gun  to  his 
shoulder,  and  take  aim.  None  of  his  companions 
ottered  a  word.  They  had  already  guessed  the  object 
of  this  movement,  and  sat  silently  awaiting  the  result. 

On  the  rock  which  they  haa  left,  the  rope  still  bound 
fast  passed  around  one  of  tl  e  angles,  in  such  a  way 
that,  from  the  point  where  B'tsil  stood,  it  offered  a  fail 
mark.  It  was  at  this  Basil  was  aiming.  His  object 
was  to  cut  the  thong  with  his  bullet.  He  could  no* 
do  it  with  a  single  shot,  as  the  thong  .was  broader  thao 
the  bullet,  but  he  had  calculated  that  he  might  effect 
his  purpose  with  several.  If  he  did  not  succeed  in 
cutting  it  clean  through,  the  ball  flattening  upon  the 
rock  would,  perhaps,  tear  the  rope  in  such  a  mannef 
that,  by  pulling  by  the  other  end,  they  migl)t  detack 
it     Such  wore  the  calculations  2md  hopes  of  Baail. 


> 


r ' 


A   BBIDOE    OF   BtTCKSKIlf. 


81 


tf 


A  moment  more  and  the  crack  of  his  lifle  was 
Aeard.  At  the  same  instant  the  dust  rose  up  from  the 
point  at  which  he  had  aimed,  and  several  small  frag* 
ments  flew  off  into  the  water.  Again  was  heard 
Franyois'  "  hurrah,"  for  Franpois,  as  well  as  the  oth- 
ers, had  seen  that  the  rope  had  been  hit  at  the  right 
place,  and  now  exhibited  a  mangled  appearance. 

While  Basil  was  reloading,  Norman  took  aim  and 
flred.  l^orman  wp"  a  good  shot,  though  perhaps  not 
eo  good  a  one  as  Basil,  for  that  was  no  easy  mattpr 
as  there  were  few  such  marksmen  to  be  found  any 
wh""'?,  not  even  among  the  professional  trappers  and 
hirt  :  ,  themselves.  But  Norman  was  a  fair  shot, 
and  this  time  hit  his  mark.  The  thong  was  evidently 
better  than  half  divided  by  the  two  bullets.  Seeing 
this,  Fran9ois  took  hold  of  the  other  end,  and  gave  it 
a  strong  jerk  or  two,  but  it  was  still  too  much  for  him, 
and  he  ceased  pulling,  and  waited  the  effect  of  Basil's 
second  shot. 

Tne  latter  had  now  reloaded,  and,  taking  deliberate 
aim  again,  fired.  The  rope  was  still  held  taut  upon 
the  rock,  for  part  of  it  dragged  in  the  current,  the 
force  of  which  kept  pressing  it  hard  downward. 
Scarcely  was  the  report  heard,  when  the  farther  end 
of  the  thong  flew  from  its  fastening,  and,  swept  by  the 
running  water,  was  seen  falling  into  the  lee  of  the 
boulder  on  which  the  party  now  stood.  A  third  time 
was  heard  the  voice  of  Fran9ois  uttering  ore  of  his 
customary  "hurrahs."  The  rope  was  now  dragged 
up,  and  made  ready  for  further  use.  Basil  again  took 
bold  of  it ;  and,  after  coiling  it  as  before,  succeeded 
in  throwing  the  noose  over  the  third  rock,  where  it 
6 


.*: 


;i     A    URIDOE   OP   BUCKSKHf. 


ppttleil  and  held  fast.  The  other  end  was  tied  m 
b«'fore,  and  all  passed  safely  to  the  new  station.  Here, 
howevpr,  their  labor  ended.  They  found  that  from 
this  point  to  the  shore  the  river  was  shallow,  and 
ford.ible ;  and,  leaving  the  rope  where  it  was,  aP  foitt 
took  the  water,  and  waded  safely  to  the  b«ikr 


I 


'■.i 


DECOTINa   THE  "GOATS." 


88 


CHAPTER  VnL  ' 

DECOYING  THE  "GOATH 

For  the  present,  then,  our  voyageurs  had  escaped 
They  were  safe  upon  the  rivers  bank ;  but  when  we 
consider  the  circumstances  in  which  they  were  placed, 
we  shall  perceiye  that  they  were  far  from  being  pleas- 
ant ones.  They  were  in  the  midst  of  a  wilderness, 
without  either  horse  or  boat  to  carry  them  out  of  it. 
They  had  lost  every  thing  but  their  arms  and  their 
axe.  The  hunting-shirts  of  some  of  them,  as  we  have 
seen,  were  destroyed,  and  they  would  now  suffer  from 
the  severe  cold  that  even  in  summer,  as  we  have  said, 
often  reigns  in  these  latitudes.  Not  a  vessel  was  left 
them  for  cooking  with,  and  not  a  morsel  of  meat  or 
any  thing  was  left  to  be  cooked.  For  their  future 
subsistence  they  would  have  to  depend  upon  their 
guns,  which,  with  their  ammunition,  they  had  fortu- 
nately preserved. 

After  reaching  the  shore,  their  first  thoughts  were 
about  procuring  something  to  eat.  They  had  now 
been  a  long  time  without  food,  and  all  four  were  hun- 
gry enough.  As  if  by  one  impulse,  all  cast  their  eyes 
around,  and  looked  upward  among  the  branches  of  the 
trees,  to  see  if  any  animal  could  be  discovered  that 
might  serve  them  for  a  meal.  Bird  or  quadruped, 
it  mattered  not,   so   that   it   was   large   ctitiugh    io 


f\ 


w 


^ 


DECOriNG   THE   "  GOATS  " 


give  the  four  a  breakfast.  But  neither  one  nor  tha 
other  vras  to  be  seen,  although  the  woods  around  had 
a  promijiing  appearance.  The  trees  were  large,  and 
as  there  was  much  underwood,  consisting  of  berry 
budhes  and  plants  with  edible  roots,  our  voyageurs  did 
Dot  doubt  that  there  would  be  found  game  in  abun- 
dance. It  was  agreed,  then,  that  Lucien  and  Fran- 
cois should  remain  on  the  spot  and  kindle  a  fire,  while 
Baijil  and  Norman  went  off  iu<  search  of  something  to 
be  cooked  upon  it.  * 

In  less  thim  an  hour  the  latter  returned,  carrying 
an  animal  u{>on  his  shoulders,  which  both  the  boya 
recognized  as  an  old  acquaintance,  —  the  prong- 
homed  antelope  {Antilope  furcifer),  so  called  from 
the  single  fork  or  prong  upon  its  horns.  Norman 
called  it  "  a  goat,"  and  stated  that  this  was  its  name 
as>xng  the  fur-traders,  while  the  Canadian  voyageurs 
give  it  the  title  of  "  cabree."  Lucien,  however,  knew 
the  animal  well.-  He  knew  it  was  not  of  the  goat 
kind,  but  a  true  antelope,  and  the  only  animal  of  that 
genus  found  in  Nor'h  America.  Its  habitat  is  the 
prairie  country,  and  at  the  present  time  it  is  not  found 
farther  east  than  the  prairies  extend,  nor  farther  north 
either^  as  it  is  not  a  creature  that  can  bear  extreme 
cold.  L:  f»arlv  times,  liowever  —  that  is,  nearly  two 
Ctnturies  ago  —  it  must  have  ranged  nearly  to  the 
Atlantic  shores,  as  lather  Hennepin,  in  his  Travels, 
speaks  of  '*  goats "  being  killed  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Niagara,  meaning  no  other  than  the  prong-homed 
antelopes.  The  true  wild  goat  of  America  is  a  very 
different  animal,  and  is  only  found  in  the  remote  i» 
gious  of  the  Rocky  Mountains. 


.   f 


i 


'' 


DECOTINO  THE  "GOATS. 


85 


What  Norman  had  shot,  then,  was  an  anteiope ; 
and  the  reason  why  it  is  called  "  cabree  "  by  the  voy- 
ageurs,  and  "  goat "  by  the  fur-traders,  is  partly  from 
its  color  resembling  that  of  the  common  goat,  but 
more  from  the  fact,  that  along  the  upper  part  of  its 
neck  there  is  a  standing  mane,  which  does  in  truth 
give  it  somewhat  the  appearance  of  the  European 
goal-  Another  point  of  resemblance  lies  in  the  fact, 
that  the  "  prong-horns "  emit  the  same  disagreeable 
odor,  which  is  a  well-known  characteristic  of  the  goat 
epecies.  This  proceeds  from  two  small  glandular 
openings  that  lie  at  the  angles  of  the  jaws,  and  ap- 
pear spots  of  a  blackish  brown  color. 

Both  Lucien  and  Fran9ois  had  shot  antelopes. 
They  had  decoyed  them  within  range  in  their  former 
expedition  on  the  prairies,  and  had  seen  wolves  do 
the  same.  The  Indians  usually  hunt  them  in  this 
manner,  by  holding  up  some  bright-colored  flag,  or 
other  curious  object,  which  rarely  fails  to  bring  them 
within  shot;  but  Norman  informed  his  cousins  that 
the  Indians  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company  care  little 
about  the  antelope,  and  rarely  think  it  worth  hunting. 
Its  skin  is  of  little  value  to  them,  and  they  consider 
its  flesh  but  indifferent  eating.  But  the  chief  reason 
why  they  take  so  little  notice  of  it  is,  because  it  ia 
found  in  the  same  range  with  the  buffalo,  the  moose, 
and  th3  elk;  and,  as  all  these  animals  are  more  vol' 
uable  to  the  Indian  hunter,  he  allows  the  antelope  to 
go  unmolested,  unless  when  he  is  hard  pressed  with 
hunger,  and  none  of  the  others  are  to  be  had. 

Whil  3  skinning  the  antelope  for  breakfast,  Norman 
unused  his  companions  by  relating  how  he  had  killed 


I  ■ 


m 


DECOYING   THE   "  GOAT&' 


1  / 


it.  tie  said  that  he  had  got  near  enough  to  shoot  i* 
by  practising  a  "dodge."  After  travelling  through 
the  woods  for  some  half-mile  or  so,  he  had  come  out 
into  a  country  of  "  openings,"  and  saw  that  there  was 
a  large  prairie  beyond.  He  saw  that  the  woods  ex- 
tended no  farther  than  about  a  mile  from  the  banks  of 
the  river,  and  that  the  whole  country  beyond  waa 
without  timber,  except  in  scattered  clumps.  This  is, 
in  fact,  true  of  the  Red  River  country,  particularly  of 
its  western  part,  from  which  the  great  prairies  stretch 
westward,  even  to  the  "  foot-hills  "  (piedmont)  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains.  Well,  then,  after  arriving  at  the 
openings,  Norman  espied  a  small  herd  of  antelopes, 
about  ten  or  a  dozen  in  all.  He  would  rather  they 
had  been  something  else,  as  elk  or  deer ;  for,  like  the 
Indians,  he  did  not  much  relish  the  "  goat's "  meat. 
He  was  too  hungry,  however,  to  be  nice,  and  so  he 
set  about  trying  to  get  within  shot  of  the  herd.  There 
was  no  cover,  and  he  knew  he  could  not  approach 
near  enough  without  using  some  stratagem.  He 
therefore  laid  himself  flat  upon  his  back,  and  raised 
his  heels  as  high  as  he  could  into  the  air.  These  he 
kicked  about  in  such  a  manner  as  soon  to  attract  the 
attention  of  the  antelopes,  that,  curious  to  make  out 
what  it  was,  commenced  running  round  and  round  in 
circles,  of  wnich  Norman  himself  was  the  centre. 
The  circles  gradually  became  smaller  and  smaller 
until  the  hunter  saw  that  his  game  was  within  range 
when,  slyly  rolling  himself  round  on  one  shoulder,  he 
took  aim  at  a  buck,  and  fired.  The  buck  fell,  and  the 
rest  of  the  herd  bounded  off  like  the  wind.  Norman 
feeling  hungry  himself,  and  knowing  that  his  compan* 


DECOTINQ   THE  **  GOATS.** 


87 


\ 


icns  were  Buffering  from  the  same  cause,  lost  no  time 
in  looking  for  other  game ;  but  shouldering  tho  "  goat," 
carried  it  into  camp. 

By  this  time  Lucien  and  Francois  had  a  fire  kin- 
dled—  a  roaring  fire  of  "pine-knots"  —  and  both 
were  standing  by  it,  smoking  all  over  in  their  wet 
leggings.  They  had  got  nearly  dry  when  Norman 
returned,  and  they  proceeded  to  assist  in  butchering 
the  antelope.  The  skin  was  whipped  off  in  a  trice ; 
and  the  venison,  cut  into  steaks  and  ribs,  was  soon 
spitted  and  sputtering  cheerily  in  the  blaze  of  the 
pine-knots.  Every  thing  looked  pleasant  and  prom- 
ising, and  it  only  wanted  the  presence  of  Basil  to 
make  them  all  feel  quite  happy  again.  Basil,  how- 
ever, did  not  make  his  appearance ;  and  as  they  were 
all  as  hungry  as  wolves,  they  could  not  wait  for  him, 
but  set  upon  the  antelope-venison,  and  made  each  of 
them  a  hearty  meal  from  it 

As  yet  they  had  no  apprehensions  about  BasiL 
They  supposed  he  had  not  met  with  any  game,  and 
was  still  travelling  about  in  search  of  it.  Should  he 
succeed  in  killing  any,  he  would  bring  it  in;  and 
should  he  not,  he  would  return  in  proper  timo,  without 
it.    It  was  still  early  in  the  day. 

But  several  hours  passed  over,  and  he  did  not 
oome.  It  was  an  unusual  length  of  time  for  him  to 
be  absent,  especially  in  strange  woods  of  which  he 
knew  nothing ;  moreover,  he  was  in  his  shirt  sleeves, 
and  ths  rest  of  his  clothing  had  been  dripping  wet 
when  he  set  out  Under  these  circumstances  would 
he  remain  so  long,  unless  something  unpleasant  had 
happened  to  him  ? 


88 


DECOYING  THE  "  GOATS  " 


I'  I   ) 


This  question  the  tliree  began  to  ask  one  another 
They  began  to  grow  uneasy  about  their  absent  com* 
panion ;  and  as  the  hours  passed  on  without  his  ap< 
pearing,  their  uneasiness  increased  to  serious  alarm. 
They  at  length  resolved  tc  go  in  search  of  him.  They 
took  different  directions,  so  that  there  would  be  a  bet- 
ter chance  of  finding  him.  !Nonnan  struck  out  into 
the  woods,  while  Lucien  and  Fran9oi8,  followed  by 
the  dog  Marengo,  kept  doAvn  the  bnnk  —  thinking  that 
if  Basil  had  got  lost,  he  would  make  for  the  river  to 
guide  him,  as  night  approached.  All  were  to  return 
to  the  camp  at  nightfall,  whether  successful  or  not. 

After  several  hours  spent  in  traversing  the  woods 
and  openings,  Norman  came  back.  He  had  been  un- 
able to  find  any  traces  of  their  missing  companion. 
The  others  had  got  back  before  him.  They  heard  hia 
story  with  sorrowing  hearts,  for  neither  had  they  fallen 
in  with  the  track  of  living  creature.  Basil  was  lost, 
be/ond  a  doubt.  He  would  never  have  staid  so 
long,  had  not  some  accident  happened  to  him.  Per- 
haps he  was  dead  —  killed  by  some  wild  animal  —  a 
panther  or  a  bear.  Perhaps  he  had  met  with  Indians, 
who  had  carried  him  off,  or  put  him  to  death  on  the 
spot.  Such  were  the  painful  conjectures  of  his  com- 
panions. ' 

It  was  now  night.  All  three  sat  mournfully  over 
the  fire,  their  looks  and  gestures  betokening  the  deep 
dejection  they  felt.  Although  in  need  of  repose,  none 
of  them  attempted  to  go  to  sleep.  At  intervals  they 
discussed  the  probability  of  his  return,  and  then  they 
would  remain  silent.  Nothing  could  be  done  thai 
night.      They  could  only  await  the  morning  light 


DECOYING    THE  " GOATS." 


89 


when  thuy  would  renew  tiieir  ctearch,  and  scour  the 
country  in  every  dii  eciion. 

It  was  near  midnight,  and  they  wore  sitting  silently 
around  the  fire,  when  Marengo  started  to  his  feet,  and 
uttered  thiee  or  four  loud  barks.  The  echoes  of  these 
ha/&  hardly  died  among  the  trees  when  a  shrill  whistle 
was  heard  at  some  distance  off  in  the  woods. 

**  Hurrah ! "  shouted  Fran9oi8,  leaping  to  his  feet  at 
the  instant ;  "  that's  Baeirs  whistle,  I'll  be  oound.  I'd 
koow  it  a  mile  off.     Hun  ah  I '' 

i"ran9ois'  "  hurrah "  rang  througn  ihtj  woods,  and 
the  next  moment  came  back  a  loua  '  Billoa  1 "  vhich 
all  recognized  as  the  voice  of  Basil. 

"  Hilloa ! "  shouted  the  three  by  the  fire. 

"  Hilloa,  my  boys  I  all  right ! "  replied  the  voice  ; 
and  a  few  seconds  after,  the  tall  upright  form  of  Basil 
himself  was  seen  advancing,  under  the  glare  of  the 
pine-knots.  A  shout  of  congratulation  was  again 
raised ;  and  all  the  party,  preceded  by  Marengr*, 
rushed  out  to  meet  the  new-comer.  They  soon  re- 
turned, bringing  Basil  up  to  the  fire,  when  it  was  seen 
that  htj  had  not  returned  empty-handed.  In  one  hand 
he  carried  a  bag  of  grouse,  or  "  prairie  hens,"  while 
fiom  the  muzzle  of  his  shouldered  rifle  there  hung 
something  that  was  at  once  recognized  as  a  brace  of 
buffalo  tongues. 

"  Voild  !  "  cried  Basil,  flinging  down  the  bag,  "  how 
are  you  off  for  supper?  And  here,"  continued  he, 
pointing  to  the  tongues, "  here's  a  pair  of  titbits  that'll 
make  you  lick  your  lips.  Come !  let  us  lose  no  time 
in  the  cooking,  for  I'm  hungry  er.ough  to  eat  either  of 
them  raw." 


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DECOYING   THE   "GOATS.* 


BasiKs  request  was  instantly  complied  with.  TI16 
lire  wai  raked  up,  spits  were  speedily  procured,  a 
tongue  and  one  of  the  grouse  were  roasted;  and 
although  Lucien,  Fran9ois,  and  Norman  had  already 
supped  on  the  "  goat's  meat,"  they  set  to  upon  the  new 
viands  with  fresh  appetites.  Basil  was  hungrier  than 
any,  for  he  had  been  all  the  while  fasting.  It  waa 
not  because  he  was  without  meat,  but  because  he 
knew  that  his  comrades  would  be  uneasy  about  him, 
and  he  would  not  stop  to  cook  it.  Of  meat  he  had 
enough,  since  he  had  slain  the  two  buffaloes  to  which 
the  tongues  had  belonged ;  and  these  same  buffaloes, 
he  now  informed  them,  had  been  the  cause  of  his  long 
absence. 

Of  course,  all  were  eager  to  know  how  the  buffaloes 
could  have  delayed  him ;  and  therefore,  while  they 
were  dis(tussing  their  savory  supper,  Basil  carnUod 
the  details  of  his  day's  adventure. 


M 


▲  **  PARTRIDGE   DANCB.' 


91 


OHAPTEH  IX. 


A  "PARTRIDGE  EANCE." 


*•  After  leaving  here,"  said  Basil,  "  I  struck  off 
through  the  woods  in  a  line  that  led  from  the  river,  in 
a  diagonal  direction.  I  hadn't  walked  more  than 
three  hundred  yards,  when  I  heard  a  drumming  sound, 
which  I  at  first  took  to  be  thunder ;  but,  after  listen- 
ing a  while,  I  knew  it  was  not  that,  but  the  drumming 
of  the  ruffed  grouse.  As  soon  as  I  could  ascertain 
the  direction  of  the  sound,  I  hurried  on  in  that  way ; 
but  for  a  long  time  I  appeared  to  get  no  nearer  it,  so 
greatly  does  this  sound  deceive  one.  I  should  think 
I  walked  a  full  mile  before  I  arrived  at  the  place 
where  the  birds  were,  for  there  were  many  of  them. 
I  then  had  a  full  view  of  them,  as  they  went  through 
their  singular  pei  formances. 

"  There  were,  in  all,  about  a  score.  They  had  se- 
lected a  piece  of  open  and  level  ground,  and  over  this 
they  were  running  in  a  circle,  about  twenty  feet  in 
diameter.  They  did  not  all  run  in  the  same  direction, 
but  met  and  crossed  each  other,  although  they  never 
deviated  much  from  the  circumference  of  the  circle, 
around  which  the  grass  was  worn  quite  bare,  and  a 
ring  upon  the  turf  looked  baked  and  black.  When  I 
first  got  near,  they  heard  my  foot  among  the  Icavesi 
and  I  saw  that  one  and  all  of  them  stopped  lunninf^i 


D2 


A   "PARTRIDGE   DANCB. 


and  s^uat  5d  close  down.  I  halted,  and  hid  myself 
behind  a  tree.  After  remaining  quiet  a  minute  or  soj 
the  birds  began  to  stretch  up  their  necks,  and  then  all 
rose  together  to  their  fecit,  and  commenced  running 
round  the  ring  as  before:.  I  knew  they  were  per- 
forming what  is  called  the  '  partridge  dance ',  *  and  as 
I  had  never  witnessed  it,  I  held  back  a  while,  and 
looked  on.  Even  hungry  as  I  was,  and  as  I  knew  all 
of  you  to  be,  so  odd  were  the  movements  of  thestf 
creatures,  that  I  could  not  resist  watching  them  a 
while,  before  I  sent  my  unwelcome  messenger  into 
their  *  ball-room.'  Now  and  then  an  old  cock  would 
separate  from  the\  pack,  and  running  out  to  some  dis* 
tance,  would  leap  upon  a  rock  that  was  there ;  then, 
after  dropping  his  wings,  flirting  with  his  spread  tailj 
erecting  the  ruff  upon  his  neck,  and  throwing  back 
his  head,  he  would  swell  and  strut  upon  the  rock,  ex- 
hibiting himself  like  a  diminutive  turkey-cock.  After 
manoeuvring  in  this  way  for  a  few  moments,  he 
would  commence  flapping  his  wings  in  short  quick 
strokes,  which  grew  more  rapid  as  he  proceeded, 
until  a  '  booming '  sound  was  produced,  more  like  the 
rumble  of  distant  thunder  than  any  thing  I  can 
think  of. 

"  This  appeared  to  be  a  challenge  to  the  others ; 
and  then  a  second  would  come  out,  and,  afler  replying; 
to  it  by  putting  himself  through  a  similar  series  of 
attitudes,  the  two  would  attack  each  other,  and  fightt 
with  all  the  fury  of  a  pair  of  game-cocks. 

"I  could  have  watched  their  manoeuvres  much 
longer,"  continued  Basil,  "but  L anger  got  the  bette'' 
of  me,  and  I  made  ready  to  fire.    Those  that  wer 


•4  >* 


A  **  PXRTRIDQE   DANCE. 


98 


dancing*  moved  so  quickly  round  the  ring  tliat  I 
lould  not  sight  one  of  them.  If  I  had  had  a  shot 
gun,  I  might  have  covered  several,  but  with  the  rifle 
I  could  not  hope  for  more  than  a  single  bird;  so, 
wanting  to  make  sure  of  that,  I  waited  until  an  old 
cock  mounted  the  rock,  and  got  to  '  drumming.'  Then 
I  sighted  him,  and  sent  my  bullet  through  his  crop. 
I  heard  the  loud  whirr  of  the  pack  as  they  rose  up 
from  the  ring ;  and,  marking  them,  I  saw  that  they  all 
alighted  only  a  couple  of  hundred  yards  off,  upon  a 
'arge  spruce  tree.  Hoping  they  would  sit  there  until 
I  could  get  another  shot,  I  loaded  as  quickly  as  possi- 
ble, and  stepped  forward.  The  course  I  took  brought 
me  past  the  one  I  had  killed,  which  I  picked  up,  and 
thrust  hastily  into  my  bag.  Beyond  this  I  had  to 
pass  over  some  logs  that  lay  along  the  ground,  with 
level  spaces  between  them.  What  was  my  surprise, 
in  getting  among  these,  to  see  two  of  the  cocks  down 
upon  the  grass,  and  fighting  so  desperately  that  they 
took  no  notice  of  my  approach !  At  first  I  threw  up 
my  rifle,  intending  to  fire,  but  seeing  that  the  birds 
were  within  a  few  feet  of  me,  I  thought  they  might 
let  me  lay  hold  of  them,  which  they,  in  fact,  did ;  for 
the  next  moment  I  had  'grabbed'  both  of  them, 
and  cooled  their  bellicose  spirits  by  wringing  their 
heads  off. 

"  I  now  proceeded  to  the  pack,  that  still  kept  the 
tree.  When  near  enough,  I  sheltered  myself  behind 
another  tree ;  and  taking  aim  at  one,  I  brought  him 
tumbling  to  the  ground.  The  others  sat  still.  Of 
course,  Pshot  the  one  upon  the  lowest  branch:  I 
knew  that,  so  long  as  I  did  this,  the  others  woul  1  sil 


94 


▲   ''PARTBIDOE   dance/ 


until  I  might  get  the  whole  of  them ;  but  (hat  if  1 
ehot  one  of  the  upper  ones,  its  fluttering  down  through 
the  branches  would  alarm  the  rest,  and  cause  them  to 
fly  off.  I  loaded  and  fired,  iuid  loaded  and  fired,  until 
half<a^ozen  of  the  birds  lay  around  the  root  of  tha 
tree.  I  believe  I  could  have  killed  the  whole  pack, 
but  it  just  then  occurred  to  me  that  I  was  wasting 
our  precious  ammunition,  and  that,  considering  the 
value  of  powder  and  shot  to  us  just  now,  the  birds 
were  hardly  worth  a  load  apiece :  so  I  left  off  crack- 
ing at  them.  As  I  stepped  forward  to  gather  what  I 
had  killed,  the  rest  whirred  away  into  the  woods. 

"  On  reaching  tbe  tree  where  they  had  perched,  I 
was  very  much  surprised  to  find  a  raw-hide  rope 
neatly  coiled  up,  and  hanging  from  one  of  the  lower 
branches.  I  knew  that  somebody  must  have  placed 
it  there,  and  I  looked  round  to  see  what  *  sign '  there 
was  besides.  My  eye  fell  upon  the  cinders  of  an  old 
fire  near  the  foot  of  the  tree ;  and  I  could  tell  that 
some  Indians  had  made  their  camp  by  it.  It  must 
have  been  a  good  while  ago,  as  the  ashes  were  beaten 
into  the  ground  by  the  rain,  and,  moreover,  some 
young  plants  were  springing  up  through  them.  I 
concluded,  therefore,  that  whoever  had  camped  there 
had  hung  the  rope  upon  the  tree,  and  on  leaving  the 
place  had  forgotten  it.  I  took  the  rope  down  tp  ex- 
amine it :  it  was  no  other  than  a  lasso,  full  fifty  feet 
long,  with  an  iron  nng  neatly  whipped  into  the  loop- 
end  ;  and,  on  trying  it  with  a  pull,  I  saw  it  was  in  the 
best  condition.  Of  course,  I  was  not  likely  to  leave 
iuch  a  prize  behind  me.  I  had  grown,  as  you  may 
all  conceiTe,  to  have  a  very  great  regard  for  a  ropf\ 


nil  IIP «upi 


▲   "PARTRIDGE   DANCE.* 


n 


eonsidering  that  one  Lad  just  saved  all  o\ir  lives  :  m 
I  resolved  on  bringing  the  lasso  with  me.  In  order 
to  carry  it  the  more  convenientlv,  I  coiled  it,  and 
then  hung  the  coil  across  my  shoulders  like  a  belt.  I 
next  packed  my  game  into  the  bag,  which  they  filled 
chock  up  to  the  mouth,  and  was  turning  to  come  back 
to  camp,  when  my  eye  fell  upon  an  object  that  caused 
me  suddenly  to  change  my  intention. 

**  I  was  near  the  edge  of  the  woods,  and  through 
the  trunks  I  could  see  a  large  open  space  beyond, 
where  there  were  no  trees,  or  only  one  here  and 
there.  In  the  middle  of  this  opening  there  was  a 
cloud  of  dust,  and  in  the  thick  of  it  I  could  see  two 
great  dark  animals  in  motion.  They  were  running 
about,  and  now  and  then  coming  together  with  a  sud- 
den rush  ;  and  every  time  they  did  so,  I  could  hear  a 
loud  thump,  like  the  stroke  of  a  sledge-hammer. 
The  sun  was  shining  upon  the  yellow  dust-cloud,  and 
the  animals  appeared  from  this  circumstance  to  be  of 
immense  size  —  much  larger  than  they  really  were. 
Ifad  I  not  known  what  kind  of  creatures  were  before 
me,  I  should  have  believed  that  the  mammoths  were 
still  in  existence.  But  I  knew  well  what  the/  were : 
I  had  seen  many  before,  carrying  on  just  such  a  game. 
I  knew  they  were  buffalo  bulls,  engaged  in  one  of 
their  teirible  battles." 

Here  Basil's  narrative  was  interrupted  by  a  singu- 
lar incident.  Indeed,  it  had  been  interrupted  more 
than  once  by  strange  noises  that  were  heard  at  some 
distance  off  in  the  woods.  These  noises  were  not  all 
alike :  at  one  time  they  resembled  the  barking  of  a 
cur  dog ;  at  another,  they  might  have  been  mistaken 


96 


▲  "  PARTRIDGE   DANCE." 


for  the  gurglings  of  a  person  who  was  being  hanged ; 
and  then  would  follow  a  shriek  so  dreadful  that  for 
some  time  the  woods  would  echo  with  its  dismal  sound. 
After  the  shriek  a  laugh  would  be  heard,  but  a  mia* 
arable  "  haw-haw-haw  I "  unlike  the  laugh  of  a  sane 
person. 

All  these  strange  voices  were  calculated  to  inspire 
terror,  and  so  have  they  many  a  time,  with  travellers 
not  accustomed  to  the  solitary  woods  of  America.  But 
our  young  voyageurs  were  not  at  all  alarmed  by  thenu 
They  knew  from  what  sort  of  a  creature  they  pro- 
ceeded ;  they  knew  they  were  the  varying  notes  of 
the  great  horned-owl  (^Strix  Virginiana)  ;  and  as  they 
had  seen  and  heard  many  a  one  before,  they  paid  no 
heed  to  this  individual. 

While  Basil  was  going  on  with  his  relation,  the  bird 
had  been  several  times  seen  to  glide  past,  and  circle 
ai'ound  upon  his  noiseless  pinions.  So  easy  was  his 
flight,  that  the  slightest  inclining  of  his  spread  tail,  or 
the  bending  of  his  broad  wing,  seemed  sufficient  to 
turn  and  carry  him  in  any  direction.  Nothing  could 
be  more  graceful  than  his  flight,  which  was  not  unlike 
that  of  the  eagle,  while  he  was  but  little  inferior  in 
size  to  one  of  these  noble  birds. 

What  interrupted  Basil  was,  that  the  owl  had 
alighted  upon  a  branch  not  twenty  feet  from  where 
they  were  all  sitting  round  the  fire,  by  the  blaze  of 
which  they  now  had  a  full  view  of  this  singular  crea- 
ture. The  moment  it  alighted,  it  commenced  uttenng 
its  hideous  and  unmusical  cries,  at  the  same  time  going 
through  3uch  a  variety  of  contortions,  both  with  its 
head  and  body,  as  to  cause  the  \f  hole  party  a  fit  of 


( 


\t ' 


A  **PARTnrDOE   DANCE.* 


97 


i 


laughter.  It  was,  in  fact,  an  odd  and  interesting  sight 
!o  witness  its  grotesque  movements,  as  it  turned  first 
its  body,  and  then  its  head  around,  witliout  moving 
ihe  shoulders,  while  its  great  honey-colored  eyes  glared 
in  the  light  of  the  fire.  At  the  end  of  every  attitude 
and  utterance,  it  would  snap  its  bill  with  such  violsnc* 
that  the  cracking  of  the  mandibles  npnn  each  cthcf 
might  have  been  heard  to  the  distance  of  several  hun* 
dred  yards. 

This  was  too  much  tor  Frau9ois'  patience  to  bear, 
and  he  immediately  crept  to  his  gun.  He  had  got 
hold  of  the  piece,  and  cocked  it;  but,  just  as  he  was 
about  to  take  aim,  the  owl  dropped  silently  down  from 
the  brancli,  and,  gliding  gently  forwrd,  thrust  out  its 
feathered  leg,  and  lifted  one  of  the  grouse  in  its  talons. 
The  latter  had  been  1/ing  upon  the  top  of  a  fallen 
tree  not  six  feet  from  the  fire !  The  owl,  after  clutch- 
ing it,  rose  into  the  air ;  and  the  next  moment  would 
have  been  lost  in  darkness,  but  the  crack  of  Franyois* 
rifle  put  a  sudden  stop  to  its  flight,  and  with  the  grouse 
still  clinging  to  its  claws  it  fell  fluttering  tx)  the  earth. 
Marengo  jumped  forward  to  seize  it ;  but  Marengo 
little  knew  the  sort  of  creature  he  had  to  deal  with. 
It  happened  to  be  only  "  winged,"  and  as  soon  as  the 
dog  came  near,  it  threw  itself  upon  its  back,  and  struck 
at  him  with  its  talons  so  wickedly,  that  he  was  fain  to 
approach  it  with  more  caution.  It  cost  Marengo  a 
considerable  fight  before  he  succeeded  in  getting  his 
jaws  over  it.  During  the  contest  it  continuaUy 
snapped  its  bill,  while  its  great  goggle  eyes  kept  altera 
nately  and  quickly  opening  and  closing,  and  the  feath 


mm 


98 


A  **  PJLBTBIDOE  BANGS. 


era  being  erected  all  over  its  bodj,  gave  it  the  appear 
anoe  of  being  twice  its  real  size.  Marengo  at  length 
iiucceeded  in  «  crunching 'Mt — although  not  until  he 
was  well  scratched  about  the  snout — and  its  useless 
carcass  having  been  thrown  upon  the  ground,  the  dog 
oontinuad  to  worry  and  chew  at  it,  while  Basil  want 
on  witL  his  narration. 


01 


il 


^Vr\ 


BASIL  AMD  THE  BISON-BULL. 


H/ 


CHAPTER  X. 


BASIL  AND  THE  BISON-BX]LL. 


«  As  soon  as  I  saw  the  buffaloes,"  continued  Basili 
X  my  first  thought  was  to  get  near,  and  have  a  shot  at 
them.  They  were  worth  a  charge  of  powder  and 
lead,  and  I  reflected  that  if  I  could  kill  but  one  of 
them,  it  would  insure  us  against  hunger  for  a  couple 
of  weeks  to  come.  So  I  hung  mj  game-bag  to  the 
branch  of  a  tree,  and  set  about  approaching  them.  I 
saw  that  the  wind  was  in  my  favor,  and  there  was  no 
danger  of  their  scenting  me.  But  there  was  no  cover 
near  them  —  the  ground  was  as  level  as  a  table,  and 
there  was  not  a  score  of  trees  upon  as  many  acres.  It 
was  no  use  crawling  up,  and  I  did  not  attempt  it,  but 
walked  straight  forward,  treading  lightlj  as  I  went. 
In  five  minutes  I  found  myself  within  good  shooting 
range.  Neither  of  the  bulls  had  noticed  me.  They 
were  too  busy  with  one  another,  and  in  all  my  life  I 
never  saw  two  creatures  fighting  in  such  earnest. 
They  were  foaming  at  the  mouth,  and  the  steam 
poured  out  of  their  nostrils  incessantly.  At  times, 
they  would  back  from  each  other  like  a  pair  of  rams, 
and  then  rush  together  head-foremost,  until  their 
skulls  cracked  with  the  terrible  collision.  One  would 
have  fancied  that  they  would  break  them  at  every 
fresh  encounter,  but  I  knew  the  thickness  of  a  buffalo's 


jUO 


BASIL   AND   THE   BI80N-BCLX.. 


ikull  before  that  time.  I  remember  having  fired  k 
musket  at  one  tliat  stood  fronting  me  not  more  than 
six  feet  distant,  when,  to  my  surprise,  the  bullet  flat* 
tcnc'd  and  fell  to  the  ground  before  the  nose  of  the 
buffalo  !  The  creature  was  not  less  astonished  than 
myself,  as  up  to  that  time  it  had  not  seen  me. 

**  Wei V*  continued  Basil,  after  a  pause,  "  I  did  not 
■top  long  to  watch  the  battle  of  the  bison-bulls.  I 
waf<  not  curious  about  that.  I  had  seen  such  many  a 
time.  I  was  thinking  about  the  meat ;  and  I  paused 
just  long  enough  to  select  the  one  that  appeared  to 
have  the  most  fat  upon  his  flanks,  when  I  drew  up  my 
rifle  and  fired.  I  aimed  for  the  heart,  ani  my  aim 
was  a  true  one,  for  the  animal  came  to  its  knees  along 
with  the  crack.  Just  at  that  moment  the  other  was 
charging  upon  it,  and,  to  my  surprise,  it  continued  tc 
run  on,  until  striking  the  wounded  one  full  butt  upon 
the  forehead,  it  knocked  the  latter  right  over  upon  its 
side ;  where,  after  giving  half  a  dozen  kicks,  it  lay 
quite  dead. 

"The  remaining  bull  had  dashed  some  paces  be- 
yond the  spot,  and  now  turned  round  again  to  renew 
his  attack.  On  seeing  his  antagonist  stretched  out 
and  motionless,  he  seemed  to  be  as  much  astonished 
as  I  was.  At  first,  no  doubt,  he  fancied  himself  the 
author  of  a  grand  coup,  for  it  was  plain  that  up  to 
this  time  he  had  neither  noticed  my  presence,  nor  the 
report  of  the  rifle.  The  bellowing  noise  that  both 
were  making  had  drowned  the  latter ;  and  the  dust, 
together  with  the  long  shaggy  tufts  that  hung  o\  er  hia 
eyes,  had  prevented  him  from  seeing  any  thing  more 
than  his  rival,  with  whom  he  was  engaged.    Now  thai 


BASIL   AlfD   TOE   BISON-BULL. 


101 


the  other  was  **  » longer  able  to  stand  before  him,  and 
thinking  it  was  himself  that  had  done  the  deed,  he 
tossed  up  his  head  and  snorted  in  triumph.  At  this 
Dioment  the  matted  hair  was  thrown  back  from  his 
eyes,  and  the  <^.u8t  having  somewhat  settled  away,  he 
sighted  me,  where  I  stood  reloading  my  gun.  I  fan- 
cied he  would  take  off  before  I  could  finish,  and  I 
made  all  the  haste  in  my  power  —  so  much  so  that  I 
dropped  the  box  of  caps  at  my  feet.  I  had  taken  one 
out,  however,  and  hurriedly  adjusted  it,  thinking  to 
myself,  as  I  did  so,  that  the  box  might  lie  where  it 
was  until  I  ..ud  finished  the  job.  I  brought  the  piece 
to  my  shoulder,  when,  to  my  surprise,  the  bull,  instead 
of  running  away,  as  I  had  expected,  set  his  head,  and 
uttering  one  of  his  terrible  bellows,  came  rushing  to- 
wards mOk  I  fired,  but  the  shot  was  a  random  one, 
and  though  it  hit  him  in  the  snout,  it  did  not  in  the 
least  disable  him.  Instead  of  keeping  him  off,  it  only 
seemed  to  irritate  him  the  more,  and  his  fury  was  now 
at  its  height 

^  I  had  no  time  to  load  again.  He  was  within  a 
few  feet  of  me  when  I  fired,  and  it  was  with  difficulty 
that,  by  leaping  to  one  side,  I  avoided  his  horns ;  but 
I  did  so,  and  he  passed  me  with  such  violence  that  I 
felt  the  ground  shake  under  his  heavy  tread. 

"  He  wheeled  immediately,  and  made  at  me  a  sec- 
ond time.  I  knew  that  if  he  once  touched  me  I  was 
gone.  His  horns  were  set,  and  his  eyes  glared  with 
a  ten'ible  earnestness.  I  rushed  towards  the  bc^y  of 
the  buffalo  that  lay  near,  hoping  that  this  might  assist 
me  in  avoiding  the  onset.  It  did  so,  for,  as  he  dashed 
forward  ever  it,  he  became  entangled  among  the  limbs« 


■H 


102 


BASIL   AND    THE   BISON-LULL. 


and  again  charged  \(ithout  striking  me.  He  turned* 
however,  as  quick  as  thought,  and  again  rushed  bel« 
lowing  upon  me.  There  was  a  tree  near  at  hand.  I 
had  noticed  it  before,  but  I  could  not  tell  whether  I 
should  have  time  to  reach  it.  I  was  now  somewhat 
nearer  it,  and,  fearing  that  I  might  not  be  able  to 
dodge  the  furious  brute  any  longer  upon  the  ground^ 
I  strack  out  for  the  tree.  You  may  be  sure  I  did  my 
best  at  running.  I  heard  the  bull  coming  after,  but 
before  he  could  overtake  me,  I  had  got  to  the  root 
of  the  tree.  It  was  my  intention,  at  first,  only  to  take 
shelter  behind  the  trunk  ;  but  when  I  had  got  there,  I 
noticed  that  there  were  some  low  branches,  and  catch* 
ing  one  of  these,  I  swung  myself  up  among  them. 

"  The  bull  passed  under  me  with  a  rush  —  almost 
touching  my  feet  as  I  hung  by  the  branch  —  but  I 
was  soon  safely  lodged  in  a  fork,  and  out  of  his  reach. 

"  My  next  thought  was  to  load  my  gun,  and  fire  at 
him  from  my  perch,  and,  with  this  intention,  I  com- 
menced loading.  I  had  no  fear  but  that  he  would 
give  me  an  opportunity,  for  he  kept  round  the  tree, 
apd  at  times  attacked  the  trunk,  butting  and  goring  it 
with  his  horns,  and  all  the  while  bellowing  furiously. 
The  tree  was  a  small  one,  and  it  shook  so,  that  I  be- 
gan to  fear  it  might  break  down.  I  therefore  made 
all  the  haste  I  could  to  get  in  the  load,  expecting  soon 
to  put  an  end  to  his  attacks.  I  succeeded  at  length  iu 
ramming  down  the  bullet,  and  was  just  turning  tha 
gun  to  put  on  a  cap,  when  I  recollected  that  the  cap 
box  was  still  lying  on  the  ground  where  it  had  fallen  • 
The  sudden  attack  of  the  animal  had  prevented  m« 
from  taking  it  up.    My  caps  were  all  within  that  box, 


i 


BASIL   AND   THE   BISON-BULL. 


103 


*     \l 


i 


and  my  gun,  loaded  though  it  was,  was  as  useless  in 
my  hands  as  a  bar  of  ircm.  To  get  at  the  caps 
would  be  quite  impossible.  I  dared  not  descend  from 
the  tree.  The  infuriated  bull  still  kept  pacing  under 
it,  now  going  round  and  round,  and  occasionally  stop- 
plag  for  a  moment  and  looking  angrily  up. 

**  My  situation  was  any  thing  but  a  pleasant  oneb 
I  began  to  fear  that  I  might  not  be  permitted  to  e8» 
cape  at  all.  The  bull  seemed  to  be  most  pertinaciout 
in  his  vengeance.  I  could  have  shot  him  in  the  back, 
or  the  neck,  or  where  I  liked,  if  I  had  imly  had  one 
cap.  He  was  within  three  feet  of  the  muzzle  of  my 
rifle ;  but  what  of  that  when  I  could  not  get  the  gun 
to  go  off?  After  a  while  I  thought  of  making  some 
tinder  paper,  and  then  trying  to '  touch  off'  the  piece 
with  it,  but  a  far  better  plan  at  that  moment  came 
into  my  head.  While  I  was  fumbling  about  my  bul> 
let-pouch,  to  get  at  my  flint  and  steel,  of  course  my 
fingers  came  into  contact  with  the  lasso  which  was 
still  hanging  around  my  shoulders.  It  was  this  that 
suggested  my  plan,  which  was  no  other  than  to  lasso 
the  bull,  and  tie  him  to  the  tree  I 

"  I  lost  no  time  in  carrying  it  into  execution.  I  un- 
coiled the  rope,  and  first  made  one  end  fast  to  the 
trunk.  The  other  was  the  loop-end,  and  reeving  it 
through  the  ring,  I  held  it  in  my  right  hand  while  I 
leaned  over  and  watched  my  opportunity.  It  was  not 
long  before  a  good  one  offered.  The  bull  still  con- 
tinued his  angry  demonstrations  below,  and  passed 
round  and  round.  It  was  no  '^.ew  thing  for  me  to  fling 
a  lasso,  and  at  the  first  pitch  I  had  the  satisfaction  of 
seeing  the  noose  pass  over  the  bison's  head,  and  settit 


wm 


104 


BASIL   AMD   THE   BISOM   BCLL. 


m  a  proper  position  behind  his  horns.    I  then  gave  it 
a  twitch,  so  as  to  tighten  it,  and  after  that  I  ran  the 
rope  over  a  branch,  and  thus  getting  'a  purchase 
upon  it,  I  pulled  it  with  all  my  might.    . 

"  As  soon  as  the  bull  felt  the  strange  cravat  around 
his  neck,  he  began  to  plunge  and  'rout'  with  vio> 
lence,  and  at  length  raa  furiously  out  from  the  tree. 
But  ho  soon  came  to  the  end  of  his  tether  ;  and  the 
quick  jerk,  which  caused  the  tree  itself  to  crack, 
brought  him  to  his  haunches,  while  the  noose  tighten- 
ing on  his  throat  was  fast  strangling  him.  But  for 
the  thick  matted  hair  it  would  have  done  so,  but  this 
saved  him,  and  he  continued  to  sprawl  and  stm^le 
at  the  end  of  th6 '  rope.  The  tree  kept  on  cracking, 
and  as  I  began  to  fear  that  it  might  give  way  and  pre- 
cipitate me  to  the  ground,  I  thought  It  better  to  slip 
down.  I  ran  direct  to  where  I  had  dropped  the  caps ; 
and,  having  got  hold  of  the  box,  I  soon  had  one  upon 
my  gun.  I  then  stole  cautiously  back,  and  while  the 
bison  was  hanging  himself  as  fast  as  he  could,  1 
.brought  his  struggles  to  a  period  by  sending  a  bullet 
through  his  ribs. 

"  As  it  was  quite  night  when  I  had  finished  the 
business,  of  course  I  could  not  stay  to  butcher  the 
bulls.  I  knew  that  you  would  be  wondering  what 
kept  me,  so  I  cut  out  the  tongues,  and  coming  by  the 
place  where  I  had  left  the  grouse,  brought  them 
along.  I  left  a  '  scare-wolf'  over  both  the  bulls,  how- 
ever, and  I  guess  we'll  find  them  all  right  in  the 
morning." 

Basil  having  finished  the  narration  of  his  day's  ad< 
ventures,  fresh 'fuel  was  heaped  on  the  embers,  and  a 


!.t 


Al  , 


BiStt  AKO   THE  BISON-BDLI,.  JflJ 

faf  ^.™  """'-""e  that  would  tot  „nta  «,or„. 

ri.i;.,ir  Jf  ""^^'^T.  "  "one  of  them  had  now 
«U,er  blankets  or  bedding.  Ba,a  himself  and  nZ 
man  were  e«a  in  IWr  shirt^eeye.,  and,  of  cmZ 

Z  diS      .    ,?, "'' "  ""^8  ^  «n  a«  nigh,.  This 


rHREE   GUBIOUS  TBBBS. 


W  CHAPTER  XI. 


1 1 


THREE  CURIOUS  TREES. 


V   ' 


ii 


Next  morning  thej  were  awake  at  an  esrly  hour 
'I  here  was  still  enough  of  the  tongues  and  grouse  left, 
along  with  some  ribs  of  the  antelope,  to  breakfast  the 
party ;  and  then  all  four  set  out  to  bring  the  flesh  of 
Basil's  buffaloes  into  camp.  This  they  accomplishedi 
after  making  several  journeys.  It  was  their  intention 
to  dry  the  meat  over  the  fire,  so  that  it  might  keep 
for  future  use.  For  this  purpose  the  flesh  was  re- 
moved from  the  bones,  and  after  being  cut  into  thin 
slices  and  strips,  was  hung  up  on  poles  at  some  dis- 
tance from  the  blaze.  Nothing  more  could  be  done, 
but  wait  until  it  became  sufficiently  parched  by  the 
heat. 

While  this  process  was  going  on,  our  voyageurs 
collected  around  the  fire,  and  entered  into  a  consulta- 
tion about  what  was  best  to  be  done.  At  first  they 
thought  of  going  back  lo  the  Red  River  settlement, 
and  obtaining  another  canoe,  as  well  as  a  fresh  stock 
of  provisions  and  implements.  But  they  all  believed 
that  getting  back  would  be  a  toilsome  and  difficult 
matter.  There  was  a  large  lake  and  several  exten- 
sive marshes  on  the  route,  and  these  would  have  to  be 
got  round,  making  the  journey  a  very  long  one  in- 
deed.   It  would  take  them  days  to  perform  it  on  foo^ 


<• 


THBEE   CURIOUS   TREES. 


107 


V  -' 


lind  nothing  is  more  discouraging  on  a  journey  than  to 
be  forced  bj  some  accident  to  what  is  called  "  taking 
the  back  track."  All  of  them  acknowledged  this,  bu^ 
what  else  could  they  do  ?  It  is  true  there  was  a  post 
of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company  at  the  northern  end 
of  Lake  Winnipeg  This  post  was  called  Norway 
House.  How  were  they  to  reach  that  afoot"'  To 
walk  around  the  borders  of  the  lake  would  be  a  dis- 
tance of  more  than  four  hundred  miles.  There  would 
be  numerous  rivers  to  cross,  as  weU  as  swamps  and 
pathless  forests  to  be  threaded.  Such  a  journey  would 
occupy  a  month  or  more,  and  at  Norway  House  they 
would  still  be  as  it  were  only  at  the  beginning  of  the 
great  journey  on  which  they  had  set  out.  Ij^oreover 
Norway  House  lay  entirely  out  of  their  way.  Cum- 
berland House  —  another  trading-post  upon  the  River 
Saskatchewan  —  was  the  next  point  where  they  had 
intended  to  rest  themselves,  after  leaving  the  Red 
River  settlements.  To  reach  Cumberland  House 
afoot  would  be  equally  difficult,  as  it,  too,  lay  at  the 
distance  of  hundreds  of  miles,  with  lakes,  and  rivers, 
and  marshes,  intervening.    What,  then,  could  they  do  ? 

"  Let  us  not  go  back,"  cried  Fran9ois,  ever  ready 
with  a  bold  advice ;  "  let  us  make  a  boat,  and  keep 
on,  say  I."      v 

"  Ha !  Fran9ois,"  rejoined  Basil,  "  it's  easy  to  say 
make  a  boat ; '  how  is  that  to  be  done,  I  pray  ?  " 

<<  Why,  what's  to  hinder  us  to  hew  a  log,  and  make 
A  dug-out?  We  have  still  got  the  axe  and  two 
hatchets  left." 

Norman  asked  what  Fran9ois  meant  by  a  dng-out 
The  phrase  was  new  to  him. 


I  .I,:—* 


■i 


108 


THREE   CUBIODS   TR£Et}. 


'*  A  canoe,  replied  Fran9oi8,  "  hollowed  out  of  a 
tree.  Thej  are  sometimes  called  *  dug-outs '  ou  the 
Alitisissippi,  especially  when  thej  are  roughly  madttt 
One  of  them,  I  think,  would  carry  all  four  of  us  well 
enough.    Don't  you  think  so,  Luce  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,"  answered  the  student ;  "  a  large  ouo 
might :  but  I  fear  there  are  no  trees  about  here  of 
Kuihcicnt  size.  We  are  not  among  the  great  timber 
of  the  Mississippi  bottom,  you  must  remember." 

"  How  large  a  tree  would  it  require  ?  "  asked  Nor- 
man, who  knew  but  little  of  this  kind  of  craft. 

'<  Three  feet  in  diameter,  at  least,"  replied  Lucien ; 
**  and  it  should  \>e  of  that  thickness  for  a  length  of 
nearly  twenty  feet.  A  less  on<^  would  not  carry  fouz 
of  us."    • 

"Then  i  am  sure  enough,"  responded  Norman, 
**  that  we  won't  find  such  timber  here.  I  have  seen 
no  tree  of  that  size  either  yesterday,  or  while  we  wem 
out  this  morning." 

«  Nor  I,"  added  BasU. 

"  I  don't  believe  there's  one,"  said  Lucien. 

"  If  we  were  in  Louisiana,"  rejoined  Fran9ois,  "  I 
could  find  fifty  canoe-trees  by  walking  as  many  3'ards. 
Why,  I  never  saw  such  insignificant  timber  as  thia 
here." 

'      "  You'll  see  smaller  timber  than  this,  cousin  Frank 
before  we  reach  the  end  of  our  voyage." 

This  remark  was  made  by  Norman,  who  kjew  tha^ 
B8  they  proceeded  northward,  the  trees  would  be  found 
decreasing  in  size  until  they  would  appear  like  gar* 
den  shrubbery. 

**  But  come,"  continued  he,  "  if  w^  can't  buJWi  • 


THBUB  CURIOUS  TUUKd. 


101 


;f. 


'W 


eraft  to  carry  uo  from  one  tree,  perhaps  we  can  do  it 
out  of  three.** 

«  With  three  I  **  echoed  Fran9oia.  "  I  should  like 
to  see  a  canoo  made  from  three  trees  I  Is  it  a  raft 
you  mean,  cousin  Norman  ?  ** 

"  No,"  responded  the  other ;  "  a  canoe,  and  one  that 
will  serve  us  for  the  rest  of  our  voyage.'* 

All  three — Basil,  Lucien,  and  Fran9oifl  —  looked 
to  their  cousin  for  an  explanation. 

"  You  would  rather  not  go  back  up  the  river  ?  *  be 
inquired,  glancing  from  one  to  the  other. 

"  We  wish  to  go  on — all  of  us,"  answered  Basils 
speaking  for  his  brothers  as  well. 

"  Very  well,"  assented  the  young  fur-trader ;  "  I 
think  it  is  better  as  you  wish  it.  Out  of  these  trees  I 
can  build  a  boat  that  will  carry  us.  It  will  ta^e  ua 
some  days  to  do  it,  and  some  time  to  find  the  timber, 
but  I  am  tolerably  certain  it  is  to  be  found  in  these 
woods.  To  do  the  job  properly  I  want  three  kinds ; 
two  of  them  I  can  see  from  where  I  sit ;  the  third  I 
expect  will  be  got  in  the  hills  we  saw  this  morning." 

As  Norman  spoke,  he  pointed  to  two  trees  that 
grew  among  many  others  not  far  from  the  spot.  These 
trees  were  of  very  different  kinds,  as  was  easily  told 
by  their  leaves  and  bark.  The  nearer  and  more  con- 
spicuous  of  them  at  once  excited  the  curiosity  of  the 
tliree  Southerners.  Lucien  recognized  it  from  its  bo- 
tanical description.  Even  Basil  and  Fran9ois,  though 
they  had  never  seen  it,  as  it  is  not  to  be  found  in  the 
hot  jlime  of  Louisiana,  knew  it  from  the  accounts 
given  of  it  by  tj-avellers.  The  tree  was  the  celebrated 
*  OttQoe-birch,"  or,  as  Lucien  named  it,  "  P&P^i''l>i'ch'' 


0' 


h 


uo 


THREE   CURIOUS   TREES. 


{Betula  papyracea),  celebrated  as  the  tree  out  of 
whose  bark  those  beautiful  canoes  are  made  that  carry 
thousands  of  Indians  over  the  interior  lakes  and 
rivers  of  North  America;  out  of  whose  bark  whole 
tribes  of  these  people  fashion  their  bowls,  their  pails, 
and  their  basket:^ ;  with  which  tliey  cover  their  tents, 
and  from  which  they  even  make  their  soup-kettles 
and  boiling-pots  1  This,  then,  was  the  canoe  birch- 
tree,  so  much  talked  of.  and  so  valuable  to  the  poor 
Indians  who  inhabit  the  cold  regions  where  it  grows. 

Our  young  Southerners  contemplated  the  tree  with 
feelings  of  interest  and  curiosity.  They  saw  that  it 
was  about  sixty  feet  high,  and  somewhat  more  than  a 
fuot  in  diameter.  Its  leaves  were  nearly  cordate,  or 
heart-shaped,  and  of  a  very  dark -green  color;  but 
that  which  rendered  it  most  conspicuous  among  the 
other  trees  of  the  forest,  was  the  shining  white  or 
silver-colored  bai'k  that  covered  its  trunk,  and  its  nu- 
merous slender  branches.  This  bark  is  only  white  ex- 
ternally. When  you  have  cut  through  the  epidermis 
you  find  it  of  a  reddish  tinge,  very  thick,  and  capable 
of  being  divided  into  several  layers.  The  wood  of  the 
tree  makes  excellent  fuel,  and  is  also  often  used  for  ar- 
ticles of  furniture.  It  has  a  close,  shining  grain,  and  ia 
strong  enough  for  ordinary  implements ;  but  if  ex- 
posed to  the  weather  will  decay  rapidly. 

The  "  canoe-birch  "  is  not  the  only  species  of  these 
trees  found  in  North  America.  The  genus  BettUa 
(so  called  from  the  Celtic  word  batu,  which  means 
birch)  has  at  least  half-a-dozen  other  known  repre- 
sentatives in  these  parts.  There  is  the  "  white-birch  " 
(B.  populi/olia),  a  worthless  tree  of  some  twenty  fe«t 


H•.i^ 


■% 


THREE   CUniOrS   TREES. 


Ill 


in  heigbt,  and  I'^ss  than  six  inches  diiimeter.  The 
bark  of  this  species  is  useless,  and  its  wocvj,  which  is 
soft  and  white,  is  unlit  even  for  fuel.  It  grow^,  how- 
ever, in  tlM5  poorest  soil.  Next  there  is  a  species 
oaUed  the  "cherry-birch"  (/?.  tenta),  so  named  from 
the  resemblance  of  its  bark  to  the  common  cherry- 
tree.  It  is  also  called  "sweet  birch,"  because  its 
young  twigs,  when  crushed,  give  out  a  pleasant  aro- 
matic odor.  Sometimes  the  name  of  "  black  birch  " 
is  given  to  this  species.  It  is  a  tree  of  fifty  or  sixty 
feet  in  height,  and  its  wood  is  much  used  in  cabinet- 
work, as  it  is  close-grained,  of  a  beautiful  reddish 
color,  and  susceptible  of  a  high  polish. 

The  "  yellow  birch  "  is  a  tree  of  the  same  size,  and 
is  so  called  from  the  color  of  its  epidermis.  It  is 
likewise  used  in  cabinet-work,  though  it  is  not  consid- 
ered equal  in  quality  to  the  cherry-birch.  Its  leaves 
and  twigs  have  also  an  aromatic  smell  when  bruised, 
not  so  strong,  however,  as  the  last  mentioned.  The 
wood  makes  excellent  fuel,  and  is  much  used  for  that 
purpose  in  some  of  the  large  cities  of  America.  The 
bark,  too,  is  excellent  for  tanning  —  almost  equal  to 
that  of  the  oak. 

The  "red  birch"  is  still  another  species,  ^hich 
takes  its  name  from  the  reddish  hue  of  its  bark.  This 
is  equal  in  size  to  the  canoe-birch,  often  growing  sev- 
enty feet  high,  with  a  trunk  of  nearly  three  feet  diam- 
eter. Its  branches  are  long,  slender,  and  pei^dulous ; 
and  it  is  from  the  twigs  of  this  species  that  most  of 
the  "  birch-brooms  "  used  in  America  are  made. 

Still  another  species  of  American  birches  is  the 
*^  dwarf  birch  "  (Betula  nana),  so  culled  Tom  its  di< 


112 


THREE   CURIOUS   TREES. 


miautive  size,  which  is  that  of  a  shrub,  only  eighteen 
inches  or  two  feet  in  height.  It  usually  grows  in  very 
cold  or  mountainous  regions,  and  is  the  smallest  of 
these  interesting  trees. 

This  information  regarding  the  birches  of  America 
was  given  by  Lueien  to  his  brothers,  not  at  that  time, 
but  shortly  afterwards,  when  the  three  were  engaged 
in  felling  one  of  these  trees.  Just  then  other  matters 
occupied  them,  and  they  had  only  glanced,  first  at  I  lie 
canoe-birch  and  then  at  the  other  free  which  Norman 
had  pointed  out.  The  latter  was  of  a  different  genus. 
It  belonged  to  the  order  Conifera,  or  cone-bearing 
trees,  as  was  evident  from  the  cone-shaped  fruits  that 
hung  upon  its  branches,  as  well  as  from  its  needle-like 
evergreen  lejives. 

The  cone-bearing  trees  of  America  are  divided  by 
lK)tanists  into  three  great  sub-orders  —  the  Pines,  the 
Cypresses,  and  the  Yews.  Each  of  these  includes 
several  genera.  By  the  "pine  tribe"  is  meant  all 
those  trees  known  commonly  by  the  names  pine, 
spruce,  fir,  and  larch ;  while  the  CupressiiKP,  or  cy 
press  tribe,  are  the  cypress  proper,  the  cedars,  the 
arbor-viiai,  and  the  junipers.  The  yew  tribe  has  fewer 
genera  or  species ;  but  the  trees  in  America  known  as 
yews  and  hemlocks  —  of  which  tiiere  are  several 
varieties  —  belong  to  it. 

Of  the  pine  tribe  a  great  number  of  specie  s  exist 
throughout  the  North  American  Continent.  The  late 
explorations  on  the  western  slope  of  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains, and  in  the  countries  bordering  on  the  Pacific, 
have  brought  to  light  a  score  of  species  hitherto  un- 
iuiown  to  the  botanist.    Many  of  these  are  trees  oi 


THREE    CCRI0U8   TREES. 


118 


ft  singular  and  valuable  kind.  Seyeral  species  found 
in  the  mountains  of  North  Mexico,  and  throughout 
those  desert  regions  where  hardly  any  other  vegeta- 
tion exists,  have  edible  seeds  upon  which  whole  tribes 
of  Indians  subsist  for  many  months  in  the  year.  The 
Spanisli  Americans  call  them  pinon  trees,  but  there 
are  several  species  of  them  in  diflferent  districts.  The 
Indians  parch  the  seeds,  and  sometimes  pound  them 
into  a  coarse  meal,  from  which  they  bake  a  very  pala- 
table bread.  This  bread  is  often  rendered  more  savory 
by  mixing  the  meal  with  drietl  "  prairie  crickets,"  a 
species  c'  coleopterous  insects  —  that  is,  insects  with 
a  crustaceous  or  shell-like  covering  over  their  wings 
—  which  are  com^ion  in  the  dusert  wilds  vhere  these 
Indians  dwelL  Some  piairie  traveUers  have  pro- 
nounced this  singular  mixture  equal  to  the  "best 
pound-cake." 

The  "  Lambert  pine,"  so  called  from  the  botanist 
of  that  name,  is  found  in  Oregon  and  California,  and 
may  be  justly  considered  one  of  the  wonders  of  the 
world.  Three  hundred  feet  is  not  an  uncommon 
1. eight  for  this  vegetable  giant;  and  its  cones  have 
boen  seen  of  eighteen  inches  in  length,  hanging  like 
Bugar-loaves  from  its  high  branches  I  The  wonderful 
**  palo  Colorado  "  of  California  is  another  giant  of  the 
pine  tribe.  It  also  grows  above  three  hundred  foel 
high,  with  a  diameter  of  sixteen  feet  I  Then  there  is 
the  "  red  pine,"  of  eighty  feet  high,  much  used  for  the 
decks  and  masts  of  ships;  the  "pitch-pine"  (/Vm« 
rigida),  a  smaller  tree,  esteemed  for  its  fuel,  and  fur- 
nishing most  of  the  firewood  used  in  some  of  the 
American  cities.  From  this  species  the  strong  bum- 
8 


r  t 


114 


THREE   CURIOUS  TREEg. 


\% 


I 


:. 


ing  "  knots  "  are  obtained.  There  is  the  *  white  pine  * 
{Pinus  strobus),  valuable  for  its  timber.  This  is  one 
of  the  largest  and  best  known  of  the  pines.  It  often 
attains  a  height  of  a  hundred  and  fifty  feet,  and  a 
large  proportion  of  those  planks  so  well  known  to  the 
carpenter  are  sawed  from  its  trunk.  In  the  State  of 
New  York  alone  no  less  than  700,000,000  feet  of  tim- 
ber are  annually  obtained  from  trees  of  this  species, 
which,  by  calculation,  must  exhaust  every  year  the 
enormous  amount  of  70,000  acres  of  forest!  Of 
course,  at  this  rate  the  pine-forests  of  New  York  State 
mu.  t  soon  be  entirely  destroyed. 

In  addition,  there  is  the  "  yellow  pine,"  a  tree  of 
sixty  feet  high,  much  used  in  flooring  houses  ;  and  the 
beautiful  "  balsam  fir,"  used  as  an  ornamental  ever- 
green both  in  Europe  and  America,  and  from  which  ia 
obtained  the  well-known  medicine  —  the  "  Canada  bal- 
sam." This  tree,  in  favorable  situations,  attains  the 
height  of  sixty  feet ;  wliile  upon  the  cold  summits  of 
mountains  it  is  often  seen  rising  only  a  few  inches 
from  the  surface.  The  "  hemlock  spruce  "  (P.  Canu' 
densis)  is  another  species,  the  bark  of  which  is  used 
in  tanning.  It  is  inferior  to  the  oak,  though  the 
leather  made  by  it  is  of  excellent  quality.  The 
"  black  "  or  "  double  spruce  "  {P.  nigra)  is  that  spe^ 
cies  from  the  twigs  of  which  is  extracted  the  essence 
that  gives  its  peculiar  flavor  to  the  well-known  "  sprtice 
beer."  Besides  these,  at  least  a  dozen  new  species 
have  lately  been  discovered  on  the  interior  mountains 
of  Mexico  —  all  of  them  more  or  less  possessing  val 
uable  properties. 

The  pines  cannot  be  termed  trees  of  the  tix>pics 


^'^  m 


r  t 


I   / 


\  \ 


|;t 


THREE    CURIOUS   TREES. 


115 


. 


J 


i 


yet  do  they  grow  in  southern  and  warm  countries  In 
the  Carolinas,  tar  and  turpentine,  products  of  the  pine, 
are  two  staple  articles  of  exportation ;  and  even  under 
the  equator  itself,  the  high  mountains  are  covered 
with  pine-forests.  But  the  pine  is  more  especially  the 
tree  of  a  northern  %ylva.  As  you  approach  the  Arctic 
circle,  it  becomes  the  characteristic  tree.  There  it  ap- 
pears  in  extensive  forests,  lending  their  picturesque 
shelter  to  the  snowy  desolation  of  the  earth.  One  spe- 
cies of  pine  is  the  very  last  tree  that  disappears  as  the 
traveller,  in  approaching  the  pole,  takes  his  leave  of 
the  limits  of  vegetation.  This  species  is  the  "  white 
spruce  "  (Pinus  alba),  the  very  one  which,  along  with 
the  birch-tree,  had  been  pointed  out  by  Norman  to  his 
companions. 

It  was  a  tree  not  over  thirty  or  forty  feet  high, 
with  a  trunk  of  less  than  a  foot  in  thickness,  and  of  a 
brownish  color.  Its  leaves  or  "  needles  "  were  about 
an  inch  in  length,  very  slender  and  acute,  and  of  a 
bluish  green  tint.  The  cones  upon  it,  which  n.t  that 
season  were  young,  were  of  a  pale  green.  When  ripe, 
however,  they  become  rusty-brown,  and  are  nearly 
two  inches  in  length. 

"What  use  Norman  would  make  of  this  tree  in 
building  his  canoj,  neither  Basil  nor  Fran9oi3  knew. 
Lucien  only  guessed  at  it.  Fran9ois  dsked  the  ques- 
tion by  saying  that  he  supposed  the  "  timbers  "  were 
to  come  out  of  it. 

"  No,"  said  Nctrman,  "  for  that  I  want  still  another 
«ort.  If  I  can't  find  that  sort,  however,  I  can  managQ 
to  do  without  i%  but  not  so  well." 

♦'What  other  sort?"  demanded  Franyois. 


•J 


il6 


THREE  CURIOUS  TREES. 


•I 


"  I  want  some  cedar-wood,"  replied  the  other. 

"  Ah  !  that's  for  the  timbers,"  said  Fran9oi3 ;  *'  I  am 
Bure  of  it.  The  cedar- wood  is  lighter  than  any  oilier, 
and,  I  dare  say,  would  answer  admirably  for  ribs  and 
other  timbers." 

*'  You  are  right  this  time,  Frank  —  it  is  considered 
«he  best  for  that  purpose." 

"  You  think  there  are  cedar-trees  on  the  hilb  wa 
■aw  this  morning?"  said  Fran9ois,  addressing  his 
Canadian  cousin.         ^ 

"  I  think  so.     I  noticed  something  like  them." 

"  And  I,  too,  observed  a  dark  foliage,"  said  Lucien, 
**  which  looked  like  the  cedar.  If  any  where  in  this 
neighborhood,  we  shall  find  them  there.  They  usually 
grow  upon  rocky,  sterile  hills,  such  as  those  appear  to 
be  —  that  is  their  proper  situation." 

"  The  question,"  remarked  Basil,  "  ought  to  be  set- 
tled at  once.  We  have  made  up  our  mind  to  the 
building  of  a  canoe,  and  I  think  we  should  lose  no 
time  in  getting  ready  the  materials.  Suppose  we  all 
Bet  out  for  the  hills." 

"  Agreed  —  agreed  I "  shouted  the  others  with  one 
voice ;  and  then  shouldering  their  guns,  and  taking 
the  axe  along,  all  four  set  out  for  the  hills.  On  reach- 
ing these,  the  object  of  their  search  was  at  once  dis- 
covered. The  tops  of  all  the  hills  —  dry,  barren 
ridges  they  were  —  were  covered  with  a  thick  grove 
of  the  red  cedar  {Juniperus  virginiana).  The  trees 
were  easily  distinguished  by  the  numerous  branches 
spreading  horizontally,  and  thickly  covered  with  short 
dark  green  needles,  giving  them  that  sombre,  shady 
appearance  that  makes  them  the  favorite  haunt  of 


: 


V       :■- 


THREE   CURIOUS    TREES. 


11? 


many  species  of  owls.  Their  beautiful  reddish  wood 
WHS  well  known  to  all  the  party,  as  it  is  to  almost 
every  one  in  the  civilized  world.  Every  body  who 
has  seen  or  used  ^  black-lead  pencil  must  know  what 
the  wood  of  the  red  cedar  is  like  —  for  it  is  in  this  the 
black-lead  is  usually  incased.  In  all  parts  of  Amer« 
ica,  where  this  tree  grows  in  plenty,  it  is  employed  foi 
posts  and  fence-rails,  as  it  is  one  of  the  most  durable 
woods  in  existence.  It  is  a  great  favorite  also  for 
kindling  fires,  as  it  catches  quickly,  and  blazes  up  in  a 
few  seconds,  so  as  to  ignite  the  heavier  logs  of  other 
timbers,  such  as  the  oak  and  the  pine. 

The  red  cedar  usually  attains  a  height  of  about 
thirty  to  forty  feet,  but  in  favorable  situations  it  grows 
Btill  larger.  The  soil  which  it  loves  best  is  of  a  stony, 
and  often  sterile  character,  and  dry  barren  hill-tops  are 
frequently  covered  with  cedars,  while  the  more  moist 
and  fertile  valleys  between  possess  a  sylva  of  a  far 
different  character.  There  is  a  variety  of  the  red 
cedar,  which  trails  upon  the  ground  like  a  creeping 
plant,  its  branches  even  taking  root  again.  Ibis  is 
rather  a  small  bush  than  a  tree,  and  is  often  seen 
hanging  down  the  face  of  inaccessible  cliffs,  it  is 
known  among  botanists  as  the  Juniperus  prostrata. 

"  Now,"  said  Norman,  after  examining  a  few  of  the 
cedar-trees,  "  we  have  here  all  that's  wanted  to  make 
our  canoe.  We  need  lose  no  more  time,  but  go  to 
work  at  once." 

"  Very  well,"  replied  the  three  brothers,  "  we  are 
ready  to  assist  you,  —  tell  us  what  to  do." 

"  In  the  first  place,"  said  the  other,  "  I  think  we  had 
better  change  our  camp  to  this  spot,  as  I  see  all  the 


QP 


118 


TnSEE    CUBIOliS   TREES. 


\ 


i 


different  kinds  of  trees  here,  and  much  better  onet 
than  those  near  the  river.  There,"  continued  he, 
pointing  to  a  piece  of  moist  ground  in  the  valley,  — 
''there  are  some  splendid  birches,  and  there  beside 
them  is  plenty  of  the  ipinette  "  (so  the  voyageurs  term 
the  white  spruce).  "  It  will  save  us  many  journeys 
if  we  go  back  and  bring  our  m'^at  to  this  place  at 
once." 

To  this  they  all  of  course  agreed,  and  started  back 
to  their  firsc  camp.  They  soon  returned  with  the  meat 
and  other  things,  and  having  chosen  a  clean  spot  under 
a  large-spreading  cedar-tree,  they  kindled  a  new  fire 
and  made  their  camp  by  it  —  that  is,  they  strung  up 
the  provisions,  hung  their  horns  and  pouches  upon 
the  branches  around,  and  rested  their  guns  against  the 
trees.  They  had  no  tent  to  pitch,  but  that  is  not 
necessary  to  constitute  a  camp.  In  the  phraseology 
of  the  American  hunter,  wherever  you  kindle  youf 
fire  or  8|>end  the  night  is  a  '^  camp." 


f: 


Ij! 


II 


HOW   TO   BUILD   A    BA.RK   CANOE. 


11» 


CHAPTER  XIT. 


HOW  TO  BUILD  A  BARK  CANOE. 


NoBMAN  expected  that  they  would  be  able  to  finiah 
Uie  canoe  in  about  a  week.  Of  course,  the  sooner  the 
better,  and  no  time  was  lost  in  setting  about  it.  The 
ribs  or  "  timbers  "  were  the  first  thing  to  be  fashioned, 
and  a  number  of  straight  branches  of  cedar  were  cut, 
out  of  which  they  were  to  be  made.  These  branches 
were  cleared  of  twigs,  and  rendered  of  an  equal  thick- 
ness at  both  ends.  They  were  then  flattc  led  with  the 
knife ;  and,  by  means  of  a  little  sweating  m  the  ashes, 
were  bent  so  as  to  bear  some  resemblance  in  shape  to 
the  wooden  ox-yokes  commonly  used  in  America,  or 
indeed  to  the  letter  U.  The  ribs  when  thus  bent  were 
not  all  of  the  same  width.  On  the  contrary,  those 
which  were  intended  to  be  placed  near  the  middle  or 
gangway  of  the  vessel,  were  about  two  feet  across  from 
side  to  side,  while  the  space  between  the  sides  of  the 
others  was  gradually  less  in  each  fresh  pair,  according 
as  their  position  was  to  be  near  to  the  stem  and  stem. 
When  the  whole  of  them  had  been  forced  into  the 
proper  shape,  they  were  placed,  one  inside  the  other 
after  the  manner  of  dishes,  and  then  all  were  firmly 
lashed  together,  and  left  to  dry.  When  the  lashing 
should  be  removed,  they  would  hold  to  the  form  thus 
given  them,  and  would  be  ready  for  fastening  to  the 
keelson. 


mm 


■ppuppanfiimna 


|iif  llill|jawJi|«|.,i    INI  *"i 


f-K 


120 


i) 


hi 


HOW   TO    BLILD 


m. 


While  Norman  was  occupied  with  the  timbers  the 
others  were  not  idle.  Basil  had  cut  down  several  of 
the  largest  and  straightest  birches,  and  Lucien  em- 
ployed himself  in  carefully  removing  the  bark  and 
cleansing  it  of  nodules  and  other  inequalities.  The 
broad  sheets  were  suspended  by  a  smoke  fire,  so  as 
completely  to  dry  up  the  sap,  and  render  it  tough  and 
elastic.  Fran9ois  had  his  part  to  play,  and  that  waa 
to  collect  the  resinous  gum  which  was  distilled  in 
plenty  from  the  trunks  of  the  epinette  or  spruce-trees. 
This  gum  is  a  species  of  pitch,  and  is  one  of  the  most 
necessary  materials  in  the  making  of  a  bark  canoe. 
It  is  used  for  "paying"  the  seams,  as  well  as  any 
cracks  that  may  show  themselves  in  the  bark  itself; 
and  without  it,  or  some  similar  substance,  it  would  be 
difficult  to  make  one  of  these  little  vessels  water-tight. 
But  that  is  not  the  only  thing  for  which  the  epinette 
is  valued  in  canoe-building ;  far  from  it.  This  tree 
produces  another  indispensable  material;  its  long 
fibrous  roots,  when  split,  form  the  twine-like  threads 
by  which  the  pieces  of  bark  are  sewed  to  each  other 
and  fastened  to  the  timbers.  These  threads  are  as 
strong  as  the  best  cords  of  hemp,  and  are  known 
among  the  Indians  by  the  name  of  "watap."  In  a 
country,  therefore,  where  hemp  and  flax  cannot  be 
readily  procured,  the  "  watap  "  is  of  great  value.  Yoq 
may  say  that  deer  are  plenty,  and  that  thongs  of 
buck.^  in  would  serve  the  same  purpose.  This,  how- 
eve;-  va  not  the  case.  The  buckskin  would  never  do 
for  £.'1  a  use.  The  moment  it  becomes  wet  it  ia 
liable  to  stretch,  so  that  the  seams  would  open  and 
the  canoe  get  filled  with  water.     The  walap,  wet  of 


V 


m 


A   BARK   CANOK. 


121 


i-i 


4i7)d(je8  not  yield,  and  has  therefore  been  found  to  be 
the  best  thing  of  all  others  for  this  purpose. 

The  only  parts  now  wanted  were  the  gtinwale  and 
the  bottom.  The  former  was  easily  obtained.  Two 
long  poles,  each  twenty  feet  in  length,  were  bent 
somewhat  like  a  pair  of  bows,  and  then  placed  with 
tlieir  convex  sides  towards  each  other,  and  firmly 
lashed  together  at  the  ends.  This  was  the  gunwale. 
The  bottom  was  the  most  difficult  part  of  all.  For 
tliat  a  solid  plank  was  required,  and  they  had  no  saw. 
The  axe  and  the  hatchet,  however,  were  called  into 
requisition,  and  a  log  was  soon  hewn  and  thinned  down 
to  the  proper  dimensions.  It  was  sharpened  off  at 
the  ends,  so  as  to  run  to  a  very  acute  angle,  both 
at  the  stem  and  stem.  When  the  bottom  was  con- 
sidered sufficiently  polished,  and  modelled  to  the  right 
shape,  the  most  difficult  part  of  the  undertaking  was 
supposed  to  be  accomplished.  A  few  long  poles  were 
^  cut  and  trimmed  flat.  These  were  to  be  laid  longi- 
tudinally between  the  ribs  and  the  bark,  somewhat 
after  the  fashion  of  laths  in  the  roofing  of  a  house. 
Their  use  was  to  prevent  the  bark  from  splitting. 
The  materials  were  now  all  obtained  complete,  and, 
with  a  few  days'  smoking  and  drying,  would  be  ready 
for  putting  together. 

While  waiting  for  the  timbers  to  dry,  paddles  were 
made,  and  Norman,  with  the  help  of  the  others,  pre- 
pared what  he  jokingly  called  his  "  dock,"  and  also  his 
"  ship-yar<?,"  T'^is  was  neither  more  nor  less  than  a 
long  mound  of  earth  —  not  unlike  a  new-made  grave, 
only  three  times  the  length  of  one,  or  even  longer. 
It  was  flat  upon  the  top,  and  graded  with  earth  so  ac 
to  be  quite  leve|  find  free  from  inequalities. 


'f 


>• . 


SE 


^»f^WP^^^Wil^WlW^PP' 


122 


HOW   TO   BUILP 


At  length  all  the  materials  were  coiisldc.  tid  qniu 
readj  for  use,  and  Norman  went  to  work  to  put  them 
together 

His  first  operation  was  to  untie  the  bundle  o(  tim- 
bers, and  separate  them.  Thej  were  found  to  h&vn 
taken  the  exact  form  into  which  they  had  been  beiit| 
and  the  thongs,  being  no  longer  necessary  to  keep  them 
in  place,  were  removed.  The  timbers  themselves 
wttre  next  placed  upon  the  bottom  or  keelson,  thone 
with  the  widest  bottoms  being  nearer  to  ''  'midships,** 
while  those  with  the  narrower  bend  were  set  towards 
the  narrower  ends  of  the  plank.  Thus  placed,  they 
were  all  firmly  lashed  with  strong  cords  of  watap,  by 
means  of  holes  pierced  in  the  bottom  plank.  For- 
tunately Lucien  happened  to  have  a  pocket-knife,  m 
which  there  was  a  good  awl  or  piercer,  that  enabled 
them  to  make  these  holes  —  else  the  matter  would 
have  been  a  much  more  difficult  one,  as  an  awl  is  one 
of  the  most  essential  tools  in  the  construction  of  a 
bark  canoe.  Of  course,  it  took  Norman  a  considera- 
ble time  to  set  all  the  ribs  in  their  proper  places,  and 
fasten  them  securely ;  but  he  was  ably  assisted  by 
Fran9ois,  who  waited  upon  him  with  much  diligence^ 
banding  him  now  the  awl,  and  then  the  watap,  when- 
ever he  required  them. 

Norman's  next  operation  was  the  laying  of  his  keel- 
eon  ^  in  dock."  The  timbers  being  attached  to  it  it 
was  lifted  up  on  the  earthen  mound,  where  it  reached 
quite  from  end  to  end.  Half-a-dozen  large  heavy 
Btones  were  then  placed  upon  it,  so  that,  pressed  down 
by  these  upon  the  even  surface  of  the  mould,  it  was 
rendered  quite  firm ;  and,  moreover,  w^  of  9\ich  a 


A   BABK   CANOE. 


isr  / 


height  from  the  ground  that  the  young  shipwright 
could  work  upon  it  without  too  much  bending  and 
kneeling. 

The  gunwale,  already  prepared,  was  next  placed 
BO  as  to  touch  the  ends  of  the  ribs  all  round,  and  these 
ends  were  adjusted  to  it  with  great  nicety,  and 
firmly  joined.  Strong  cross-pieces  were  fixed,  which 
weiA3  designed,  not  only  to  keep  the  gunwale  from 
spreading  or  contracting,  but  afterwards  to  serve  as 
seats. 

Of  course,  the  gunwale  formed  the  complete  moutli, 
or  upper  edge  of  the  canoe.  It  was  several  feel 
longer  than  the  bottom  plank,  and,  when  in  place,  pro- 
jected beyond  the  ribs  at  both  ends.  From  each  end 
of  the  bottom  plank,  therefore,  to  the  corresponding 
end  of  the  gunwale,  a  straight  piece  of  wood  was 
stretched,  and  fastened.  One  of  these  pieces  would 
form  the  stem  or  cutwater,  while  the  other  would  be- 
come the  stem  of  the  craft.  The  long  poles  were 
next  laid  longitudinally  upon  the  ribs  outside,  and 
lashed  in  their  places;  and  this  done,  the  skeleton 
was  completed,  ready  for  the  bark. 

The  latter  had  been  already  cut  to  the  proper 
dimensions  and  shape.  It  consisted  of  oblong  pieces 
—  each  piece  being  a  regular  oarallelogram,  as  it  Lad 
been  stripped  from  the  tree.  These  were  laid  upon 
the  ribs  longitudinally,  and  then  sewed  to  the  edge  of 
the  bottom  plank,  and  also  to  the  gunwale.  The  bark 
itself  was  in  such  broad  pieces  that  two  of  them  wero 
suflicient  to  cover  half  a  aide,  so  that  but  one  seam  was 
required  lengthwise,  in  addition  to  the  fastenings  at 
the  top  and  bottom.     Two  lengths  of  the  baik  als* 


"**■ 


ai 


i2i 


HOW  TO   BUILD 


reached  teverlj  from  stem  to  stern,  and  thus  required 
only  on"  transverse  seam  on  each  side.  There  was 
an  advantage  in  this  arrangement,  for  where  the 
birch'bark  can  only  be  obtained  in  small  flakes,  a  great 
numb<>r  of  seams  is  a  ner'essary  consequence,  and  then 
it  is  «'.xtrcmely  ditficult  to  keep  the  canoe  from  leaking. 
Thanks  to  the  fine  birch-trees,  that  grew  in  abundance 
around,  our  boat-builders  had  procured  the  very  best 
hprk. 

The  canoe  was  now  completed  all  but  the  "  paying," 
vid  that  would  not  take  long  to  do.  The  gum  of  the 
^pinette  had  to  be  boiled,  and  mixed  with  a  little 
grease,  so  as  to  form  a  species  of  wax.  For  this  the 
Pat  already  obtained  from  the  buffaloes  was  the  very 
thing;  and  a  small  tin  cup  which  Basil  had  saved  from 
the  wr<eck  (it  had  been  strung  to  his  bullet-pouch), 
enabled  them  to  melt  the  gum,  and  apply  it  hot.  In 
less  than  an  hovr  the  thing  was  done.  Every  crack 
and  awl-hole  was  payed,  and  the  canoe  was  pro- 
nounced "  watertight,"  and,  as  Francois  added,  with  a 
laugh,  "  seaworthy." 

A  small  pond  was  near,  at  the'  bottom  of  the  hill : 
Franjois  espied  it 

"  Come,  boys,"  cried  he,  "  a  launch !  a  launch ! " 

This  was  agreed  to  by  all.  The  great  stones  were 
taken  out.  Basil  and  Norman,  going  one  to  the  stem 
the  other  to  the  stern,  lifled  the  canoe  from  the 
"  dock  ''  and,  raising  it  upon  their  shoulders,  carried  it 
down  to  the  pond.  The  next  moment  it  was  pushed 
into  the  water,  where  it  floated  like  a  cork.  A  loud 
cheer  w^as  given,  in  which  even  Marengo  joined ;  and 
a  salute  was  then  fired  —  a  full  broadside  —  from  the 


I.I 


1    BAKK   CAMOS. 


IM. 


four  guns.  Fran9ois,  to  complete  the  thing,  seized 
one  of  the  paddles,  and  leaping  into  the  cance,  shot 
the  little  crafl  out  upon  the  bosom  of  the  pond,  cheer- 
ing all  the  while  like  one  frantic.  After  amusing  him* 
self  for  some  minutes,  he  paddled  back  to  the  shorOi 
when  they  all  looked  eagerly  into  the  canoe,  and  pel 
ceived  to  their  gratification  that  not  as  much  as  a  drop 
of  water  had  leaked  during  the  "  trip."  Thanks  and 
congratulations  now  greeted  Norman  from  every  side ; 
and,  taking  their  vessel  from  (he  water,  the  young 
voyageurs  returned  to  their  camp,  to  regale  themselvei 
with  a  grand  dinner,  which  Lucien  had  cooked  for  ih» 
oocMion. 


i^ 


m 


» 


9E 


126 


THE  CHAIN    or  LA.XE&. 


1.. 


'  i 


i  CHAPTER  XIIL 

THE  CHAIN  OF  LAKES. 

OuB  young  voyageurs  now  prepared  to  resume  iLeb 
journey.  While  Norman  was  engaged  in  building  hifl 
canoe,  with  his  assistant,  Fran9ois,  the  others  had  not 
been  idle.  Basil  was,  of  course,  the  hunter  of  the 
party ;  and,  in  addition  to  the  small  game,  such  as 
bares,  geese,  and  grouse,  he  had  killed  three  caribou, 
of  the  large  variety  known  as  "  woodland  caribou." 
These  are  a  species  of  the  reindeer  (  Gervus  iarandus), 
of  which  I  have  more  to  say  hereafter.  Lucien  had 
attended  to  the  drying  of  their  flesh ;  and  there  was 
enough  of  it  still  left,  as  our  voyageurs  believed,  to  sup- 
ply their  wants  until  they  should  reach  Cumberland 
House,  where  they  would,  of  course,  procure  a  fresh 
stock  of  provisions.  The  skins  of  the  caribou  had  al^'.G 
been  scraped  and  dressed  by  Lucien  —  who  understood 
the  process  well  —  and  these,  with  the  skin  of  ti'.e  mte- 
lope,  were  suiRcient  to  make  a  pair  of  hunting  shirts 
for  Basil  and  Norman,  who,  it  will  be  remembered, 
had  lost  theirs  by  cutthig  them  up. 

Next  morning  the  canoe  was  launched  upon  the 
river  —  below  the  rapids  —  and  the  dried  meat,  with 
their  other  matters,  snugly  stowed  in  the  stem.  Then 
the  young  voyageurs  got  in,  and,  seating  themselves 
in  their  places,  seized  hold  of  the  paddles.    The  next 


I  I 


IHIb   CHAIN   OF   LAKES. 


1V7 


moment  ihe  canoe  shot  out  into  the  stream ;  and  a 
triumphant  cheer  from  tlie  crew  announced  that  they 
had  recommenced  their  journey.  They  found  to  their 
delight  tliat  the  little  vessel  behaved  admirably,— 
•hooting  through  the  water  like  an  arrow,  and  leak- 
ing not  water  enough,  as  rran9oi8  expressed  it,  "  to 
drown  a  mosquito."  They  had  all  taken  their  seota 
ill  the  order  which  had  been  agreed  upon  for  the  day. 
Norman  wus  "bowsman,"  and,  of  course,  sat  in  tha 
bow.  This,  among  the  regular  Canadian  voys^cursy 
is  esteemed  the  post  of  honor,  and  the  bowsman  is 
usually  styled  "  Captain  "  by  the  rest  of  the  crew.  It 
is  also  the  post  that  requires  the  greatest  amount  of 
ekill  on  the  part  of  its  occupant,  particularly  where 
there  are  rapids  or  shoals  to  be  avoided.  The  post 
<^ ''  steersman  "  is  also  one  of  honor  and  importance ; 
and  both  steersman  and  bowsman  receive  higher 
wages  than  the  other  voyageurs,  who  pass  ander  the 
name  of"  middlemen."  The  steersman  sits  ir  the  stem, 
and  that  place  was  now  occupied  by  Luciei ,  w1k>  had 
proved  himself  an  excellent  steersman.  Basil  and 
Franfois  were,  of  course,  the  "middlemen,"  and 
plied  the  paddles.  This  was  the  aiTangement  made 
for  the  day;  but  although  on  other  days  the  pro- 
gramme was  to  be  changed,  so  as  to  relieve  Basil 
and  Fran9ois,  on  all  occasions  when  there  were  rap- 
ids or  other  difficulties  to  be  encountered,  they  w^na 
to  return  to  this  order.  Norman,  of  course,  under- 
stood canoe  navigation  better  than  his  Southern  cous- 
ins; and  therefore,  by  universal  assent,  ho  was  ac- 
knowledged "thd  Captain,"  and  Fran9ois  always 
addressed  him  as  such.    Lucien's  claim  to  the  post 


tijtmmmmmmimmmmmmammmm 


128 


THE    CHAIN    OF   LAKES. 


1 


cf  second  honor  was  admitted  to  be  just,  as  he  had 
proved  himself  capable  of  filling  it  to  the  satisfactioo 
of  all.  Marengo  had  no  post,  but  lay  quietly  upon 
the  buffalo  skin  between  Lucien's  legs,  and  listened 
to  the  conversation  without  joining  in  it,  or  in  any 
way  interfering  in  the  working  of  the  vessel. 

In  a  few  hours  our  voyageurs  bad  passed  through 
the  low  marshy  country  that  lies  around  the  mouth  cf 
the  Red  River,  and  the  white  expanse  of  the  great 
Lake  Winnipeg  opened  before  them,  stretching  north- 
ward far  beyond  the  range  of  their  vision.  Norman 
knew  the  lake,  having  crossed  it  before,  but  its  aspect 
somewhat  disappointed  the  Southein  travellers.  In« 
stead  of  a  vast,  dark  lake  which  they  had  expected  to 
see,  they  looked  upon  a  whitish  muddy  sheet,  that 
presented  but  few  attractive  points  to  the  eye,  either 
in  the  hue  of  its  water,  or  the  scenery  of  its  shores. 
These,  so  far  as  they  could  see  them,  were  low,  and 
apparently  marshy  ;  and  this  is,  in  fact,  the  character 
of  the  southern  shores  of  Winnipeg.  On  its  east  and 
north,  however,  the  country  is  of  a  different  charac- 
ter. There  the  geological  formation  is  what  is  teimed 
primitive.  The  rocks  consist  of  granite,  sienite,  gneiss, 
ice  ;  and,  as  is  always  the  jase  where  such  rocks  are 
found,  the  country  is  hilly  and  rugged.  On  the  west- 
em  shores  a  secondary  formation  exists.  This  is  strut' 
ijiid  limestone^  —  the  same  as  that  which  forms  tlie 
bed  of  many  of  the  great  prairies  of  America ;  and, 
indeed,  the  Lake  Winnipeg  lies  between  this  secondary 
formation  and  the  primitive,  which  bounds  it  on  the 
east.  Along  its  western  shore<]  extends  the  flat  lime« 
■tone  country,  partly  wooded  and  partly  prairie  land^ 


!:l 


TOE   CHAIN    OF   LAKES. 


129 


running  from  that  point  for  hundreds  '>f  miles  up  to 
the  very  foot  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  where  tha 
primitive  rocks  again  make  their  appearance  in  the 
rugged  peaks  of  that  stupendous  chain.  Lake  Winni- 
peg is  nearly  three  hundred  miles  in  length,  but  it  ia 
very  narrow,  —  being,  in  its  widest  reach,  not  over 
fifty  miles,  and  in  many  places  only  fifteen  miles  from 
shore  to  shore.  It  trends  nearly  due  north  and  south, 
leaning  a  little  north-west  and  south-east,  and  re- 
ceives many  large  rivers,  as  the  Red,  the  Saskatche- 
wan, and  the  Winnipeg.  The  waters  of  these  are 
again  carried  out  oi  it  by  other  rivers  that  run  from 
the  lake,  and  empty  into  the  Hudson's  Bay.  There 
is  a  belief  among  the  hunters  and  voyageurs  that  this 
lake  has  its  tides  like  the  ocean.  Such,  however,  is 
not  the  case.  There  is  at  times  a  rise  and  overflow 
of  its  waters,  but  it  is  not  periodical,  and  is  supposed 
to  be  occasioned  by  strong  winds  forcing  the  waters 
towards  a  particular  shore. 

Lake  Winnipeg  is  remarkable,  as  being  in  the  very 
centre  of  the  North  American  Continent,  and  may  be 
called  the  centre  of  the  canoj  navirfation.  From  this 
point  it  is  possible  to  travel  by  wate/  to  Hudson's  Bay 
on  the  north-east,  to  the  Atlantic  Ocean  on  the  east,  to 
the  Gulf  of  Mexico  on  the  south,  to  the  Pacific  on 
the  west,  and  to  the  Polar  Sea  on  the  north  and  north- 
west. Considering  that  some  of  these  distances  are 
upwards  of  three  thousand  miles,  it  will  be  perceived 
that  Lake  Winnipeg  holds  a  singular  position  upon 
the  continent.  All  th'e  routes  mentioned  can  be  mad« 
without  any  great "  portage,"  and  even  a  choice  of 
9 


3= 


1  »'"'iffri'TiiBrrgffn 


:(!■ 


130 


THE   CHAIN   OF  LAKKS. 


route  is  often  to  be  had  upon  those  different  lines  of 
communication. 

These  were  points  of  information  communicated  by 
Norman  as  the  canoe  was  paddled  along  the  shore « 
fur  Norman,  although  troubling  hunsdf  but  little  about 
the  caunes  of  things,  possessed  a  good  practical  knowl- 
edge of  things  as  they  actually  were.  He  was  toler 
ably  well  acquainted  with  the  routes,  their  portages, 
and  distances.  Some  of  them  he  had  travelled  over 
in  company  with  his  father,  and  of  others  he  had  heard 
the  accounts  given  by  the  voyageurs,  traders,  and 
trappers.  Norman  knew  that  Lake  "Winnipeg  was 
muddy, — he  did  not  care  to  inquire  the  cause.  He 
knew  that  there  was  a  hilly  country  on  its  eastern  and 
a  low  level  land  on  its  western  shores,  but  it  never 
occurred  to  him  to  speculate  on  this  geological  differ- 
ence. It  was  the  naturalist  Lucien  who  threw  out 
some  hints  on  this  part  of  the  subject,  and  further 
added  his  opinion,  that  the  lake  came  to  be  there  in 
consequence  of  the  wearing  away  of  the  rocks  at  the 
junction  of  the  stratified  with  the  primitive  formation, 
tlius  creating  an  excavation  in  the  surface,  which  in 
tin.o  b«icame  filled  with  water  and  formed  the  lake. 
This  cause  he  also  assigned  for  the  existence  of  a  re- 
markable "  chain  of  lakes  "  that  extends  almost  from 
the  Arctic  Sea  to  the  frontiers  of  Canada.  The  most 
noted  of  these  are  Martin,  Great  Slave,  Athabasca, 
Wftllaston,  Deer,  Lake  Winnipeg,  and  the  Lake  of 
the  "Woods.  Lucien  further  informed  his  compan« 
ions  that  where  primitive  rocks  form  the  surface  of 
%  country,  that    surface  will  be  found  to    exhibit 


THE    CHAIN   OF  LAKES. 


181 


great  diversity  of  aspect  There  will  be  numeroiia 
lakes  and  swamps,  ragged  steep  hills  with  deep  valleys 
between,  short  streams  with  many  falls  and  rapids. 
These  arc  the  characteristics  of  a  primitive  surface. 
On  the  other  hand,  where  secondary  rocks  prevail  the 
surface  is  usually  a  series  of  plains,  often  high,  dr} , 
And  treeless,  as  is  the  case  upon  the  great  American 

Ui'^ii  such  topics  did  Lucien  instruct  his  compan- 
«or  3,  as  they  paddled  their  canoe  around  the  edge  of 
the  lake.  They  had  turned  the  head  of  their  little 
vessel  westward,  as  it  was  their  design  to  keep  along 
the  western  border  of  the  lake  until  they  should  reach 
t>e  mouth  of  the  Saskatchewan.  They  kept  at  a  short 
distance  from  the  shore,  usually  steering  from  point 
to  point,  and  in  this  way  making  their  route  as  direct 
as  possible.  It  would  have  been  still  more  direct  had 
they  struck  out  into  the  open  lake,  and  kept  up  its 
middle ;  but  *hiri  would  have  been  a  dangerous  course 
to  pursue,  i'lire  are  often  high  winds  upon  Lake 
Winnipeg  Im  J''ing  up  suddenly;  and  at  such  times 
the  wav  ?, ;'  ij  i  uiountains  high,  at  least  arrive  at  the 
hcigiit  of  uv,  -t:.  Among  such  billows  the  little  craft 
would  have  b^r..  in  dan^  /  of  being  swamped,  and 
our  voyageurs  of  going  to  the  bottom.  They  ther«- 
fore  wisely  resolved  not  to  risk  such  an  accident,  but 
to  "  I  -y  the  shore,"  though  it  made  their  voyage 
longer.  Each  night  they  would  land  at  some  conve- 
nient place,  kindle  their  fire,  cook  their  supper,  and 
dry  thtj   :.an,oe  for  the  next  day's  journey. 

Acco}:«^^\^  *o  this  arrangement,  a  little  before  8un« 


^w^r^Kmimmm 


182 


THE  CHAIN   or  LAKBS. 


set  of  the  first  day  thej  came  to  land  and  miide  theif 
camp.  The  canoe  was  unloaded,  carefullj  lifted  out 
(tf  the  water,  and  then  set  bottom  upward  to  drip 
and  dry.  A  fire  was  kindled,  some  of  the  dry  meat 
oooked,  and  all  four  sat  down  and  began  to  e«t,  m  only 
km^py  travellers  can. 


H 


1 1 


Tit 


WAFITI,  WOLYES,  AKD  WOLYEBENS.         188 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


WAPITI,  WOLVES,  AND  WOLVERBNB. 


The  spot  where  our  Yojageurs  had  landed  was  at  the 
bottom  of  a  small  baj.  The  country  back  from  the 
lake  was  level  and  clear  of  timber.  Here  and  there, 
nearer  the  shore,  however,  its  surface  was  prettily 
interspersed  with  small  clumps  of  willows,  that  formed 
little  copse-like  thickets  of  deep  ^en.  Beside  one 
of  these  thickets,  within  a  hundred  j^ards  of  the  beach, 
the  fire  had  been  kindled,  on  a  spot  of  ground  that 
commanded  a  view  of  the  plain  for  miles  back. 

"  Look  yonder ! "  cried  Fran9ois,  who  had  finished 
eating,  and  risen  to  his  feet  '<  What  are  these,  cap- 
tain ? "  Fran9ois  pointed  to  some  objects  that  ap- 
peared at  a  great  distance  off  upon  the  plain. 

The  "  captain  "  rose  up,  placed  his  hand  so  as  to 
shade  his  eyes  from  the  sun,  and,  after  looking  for  a 
second  or  two  in  the  direction  indicated,  replied  to  the 
other's  question  by  simply  saying,  — 

"Wapiti." 

**  Fm  no  wiser  than  before  I  asked  the  question," 
laid  Franpois.  "Fray,  enlighten  me  as  to  what  a 
wapiti  may  be  I " 

"  Why,  red  deer ;  or  elk,  if  you  like." 

"  O,  elk  —  now  I  understand  you.  I  thought 
ttiey  were  elk,  but  they're  so  far  off  I  wasn't  sufe." 


184 


WAPITI,   WOLVES, 


m 


Lucien  at  this  moment  rose  up,  and  looking  through 
a  small  telescope,  which  he  carried,  confirmed  th* 
statement  of  the  *'  captain,"  and  pronounced  it  to  be 
a  herd  of  elk. 

"  Come,  Luce,"  demanded  Fran9oi8,  "  tell  us  what 
you  know  of  the  elk.  It  will  pass  the  time.  Norman 
says  it's  no  use  going  after  them  out  there  in  the  open 
grour.d,  as  they'd  shy  oft'  before  one  could  get  within 
ihot.  You  see  there  is  not  a  bush  within  half-a-mile 
of  them." 

"  If  we  wait,"  interrupted  Norman,  "  I  should  not 
wonder  but  we  may  have  them  among  the  bushes  be- 
u.^  long.  They  appear  to  be  grazing  this  way.  I 
warrant  you  they'll  come  to  the  lake  to  drink  before 
nightfaU," 

**  Very  well,  then ;  the  philosopher  can  tell  us  all 
about  them  before  that." 

Lucien,  thus  appealed  to,  began:  — 

**  There  are  few  animals  that  have  so  many  names 
as  this.  It  is  called  in  different  didtricts,  or  by  differ- 
ent authors,  elk,  round-homed  elk,  American  elk,  stag, 
tea  deer,  gray  moose,  le  biche,  wapiti,  and  wewaskzsh. 
Naturalists  have  given  not  a  few  of  their  designations, 
as  Cervus  Canadensis,  C.  major,  C,  alces,  C.  strongy- 
ioceru-s,  &C. 

"  You  may  ask,  Why  so  many  names  ?  I  shall  tell 
you.  It  is  called  *  elk  *  because  it  was  supposed  by 
the  early  colonists  to  be  the  same  as  the  elk  of  Eu- 
rope.  Its  name  of  *  gray  moose '  is  a  hunter  appella- 
tion, to  distinguish  it  from  the  real  moose,  which  tlio 
same  hunters  know  as  the 'black  moose.'  'Round- 
homed  elk '  is  also  a  hunter  name.    '  Wewaskish,'  or 


AMD   11V0LYE££NS. 


IM 


*  waskesse,'  is  an  Indian  name  for  the  animaL  *  Stag' 
comes  from  the  European  deer,  so  called,  because  thif 
species  somewhat  resembles  the  stag;  and  'red  deer' 
is  a  name  used  by  the  Hudson  Bay  traders.  *  Le 
biche  *  is  another  synonyme  of  French  authors. 

<*  Of  all  these  names,  I  thmk  that  of  *  wapiti,'  which 
our  cousin  has  given,  the  best.     The  names  of  '  elk/ 

*  stag,'  and  <  red  deer,'  lead  to  confusion,  as  there  ar« 
other  species  to  which  they  properly  belong,  all  of 
which  are  entirely  different  from  the  wapiti.  I  be- 
lieve that  this  last  name  is  now  used  by  the  best- 
informed  naturalists. 

'<  In  my  opinion,"  continued  Lucien,  "  the  wapiti  i§ 
the  noblest  of  all  the  deer  kind.  It  possesses  the  fine 
form  of  the  European  stag,  while  it  is  nearly  a  tixird 
larger  and  stronger.  It  has  all  the  grace  of  limb  and 
motion  that  belongs  to  the  common  deer,  while  its 
towering  horns  give  it  a  most  majestic  and  imposing 
appearance.  Its  color  during  the  sunmier  is  of  a 
reddish  brown,  hence  the  name  red  deer ;  but,  indeed, 
the  reddish  tint  upon  the  wapiti  is  deeper  and  richer 
than  that  of  its  European  cousin.  The  wapiti,  like 
other  deer,  brings  forth  its  fawns  in  the  spring.  They 
are  usually  a  male  and  female,  for  two  is  the  number 
it  produces.  The  males  only  have  horns ;  and  they 
must  be  several  years  old  before  the  antlers  become 
fill]  and  branching.  They  &11  every  year,  but  not  untij 
February  or  March,  and  then  the  new  ones  grow  out 
in  a  month  or  six  weeks.  During  the  summer  the 
horns  remain  soft  and  tender  to  the  touch.  They  are 
covered  at  this  time  with  a  soft  membrane  that  lookg 
like  grayish  velvet,  and  ihey  are  tbra  sail  to  be  <  ia 


m 


186 


WAPITI,  WOLVES, 


i\ 


\'\' 


ill 


the  velvet.*  There  are  nerves  and  blood-vessels  run 
ning  through  this  membrane,  and  a  blow  upon  tL( 
horns  at  this  season  gives  great  pain  to  the  animaL 
When  the  autumn  arrives,  the  velvet  peals  off,  and 
they  become  as  hard  as  bone.  They  would  need  to 
be,  for  this  is  the  <  rutting '  season,  and  the  bucks  fight 
furious  battles  with  each  other,  clashing  their  horns 
together,  as  if  they  would  break  them  to  pieces. 
Very  often  a  pair  of  bucks,  while  thus  contending, 
lock'  their  antlers,  and  being  unable  to  draw  them 
tpart,  remain  head  to  head  until  both  die  with  hunger, 
or  fall  a  prey  to  the  prowling  wolves.  This  is  true 
not  only  of  the  elk,  but  also  of  the  reindeer,  the 
moose,  and  many  other  species  of  deer.  Hundreds 
of  pairs  of  horns  have  been  found  thus  <  locked,'  and 
the  solitary  hunter  has  often  surprised  the  deer  in  this 
unpleasant  predicament. 

'<  The  wapiti  utters  a  whistling  sound,  that  can  be 
beard  far  off,  and  often  guides  the  hunter  to  the  right 
spot  In  the  rutting  season  the  bucks  make  other 
noises,  which  somewhat  resemble  the  braying  of  an 
ass,  and  are  equally  disagreeable  to  listen  to. 

''  The  wapiti  travel  about  in  small  herds,  rarely  ex- 
ceeding fifty,  but  often  of  only  six  or  seven.  Where 
they  are  not  much  hunted  they  are  easily  approached, 
but  otherwise  they  are  shy  enough.  The  bucks,  when 
wounded  and  brought  to  bay,  become  dangerous  as* 
eailants;  much  mor^  so  than  those  of  the  common 
deer.  Hunters  have  sometimes  escaped  with  dif&- 
culty  from  their  horns  and  hoofs,  with  the  latter  of 
which  they  can  inflict  very  severe  blows.  They  are 
hunted  in  the  same  way  as  other  deer ;  but  the  In 


II 


AMD    WOLYERENEt 


137 


dians  capture  many  of  them  in  the  water,  when  ihey 
discover  them  crossing  lakes  or  rivers.  They  are 
excellent  swimmers,  and  can  make  their  way  over  the 
arm  of  a  lake  or  across  the  widest  river. 

"They  feed  upon  grass,  and  sometimes  on  the 
young  shoots  of  willows  and  poplar  trees.  They  are 
especially  fond  of  a  species  of  wild  rose  {Rosa  Mm- 
rfa),  which  grows  in  the  countries  they  frequent. 

^  The  wapiti  at  one  time  ranged  over  a  large  part 
of  the  continent  of  North  America.  Its  range  is  now 
restricted  by  the  spread  of  the  settlements.  It  is  still 
found  in  most  of  the  northern  parts  of  the  United 
States,  but  only  in  remote  mountainous  districts,  and 
even  there  it  is  a  rare  animal.  In  Canada  it  is  more 
common ;  and  it  roams  across  the  continent  to  the 
shores  of  the  Pacific.  It  is  not  an  animal  of  the  trop- 
ical countries,  as  it  is  not  found  in  Mexico  proper. 
On  the  other  hand,  wapiti  do  not  go  farther  north  than 
about  the  fifty-seventh  parallel  of  latitude,  and  then 
they  are  not  in  their  favorite  habitat,  which  is  prop- 
erly the  temperate  zone.** 

Lucien  was  interrupted  by  an  exclamation  from 
Basil,  who  stood  up  looking  out  upon  the  piairie. 
They  all  saw  that  he  had  been  observing  the  wapitL 

"What  is  it?  "cried  they. 

"Look  yonder r*  replied  Basil,  pointing  in  the 
direction  of  the  herd.  "Something  disturbs  them. 
Give  me  your  glass.  Luce.'* 

Lucien  handed  the  telescope  to  his  brother,  who^ 
drawing  it  to  the  proper  focus,  pointed  it  towards  the 
deer.  The  rest  watched  them  with  the  naked  eye. 
They  could  see  that  there  was  some  trouble  amcng 


188 


WAPITI,    WOLVES, 


i 


the  animals.  There  were  only  six  in  the  herd,  ind 
even  at  the  distance  our  voyageurs  could  tell  that  they 
were  all  bucks,  for  it  was  the  season  when  the  does 
secrete  themselves  in  the  woods  and  thickets  to  bring 
forth  their  young.  They  were  running  to  and  fro 
upon  the  prairie,  and  doubling  about  as  if  playing,  or 
rather  as  if  some  creature  was  chasing  them.  With 
the  naked  eye,  however,  nothing  could  be  seen  upon 
the  ground  but  tlie  bucks  themselves,  and  all  tho 
others  looked  to  Basil,  who  held  the  glass,  for  as 
explanation  of  their  odd  manceavres. 

"There  are  wolves  at  them,"  said  Basil,  after 
regarding  them  for  a  second  or  two. 

"That's  odd,"  rejoined  Norman.  "Wolves  don't 
often  attack  fuU-growu  wapiti,  except  when  w(mnded 
or  crippled  somehow.  They  must  be  precious  hungry 
What  sort  of  wolves  are  they  ?  " 

To  you,  boy  reader,  this  question  may  seem  strange. 
You,  perhaps,  think  that  a  wolf  is  a  wolf,  and  there  is 
but  one  kind.  Such,  however,  is  not  the  exact  truth. 
In  America  there  are  two  distinct  species  of  wolves, 
and  of  these  two  species  there  are  many  varieties, 
which  differ  so  much  in  color  and  other  respects,  that 
some  authors  have  classed  them  y^a  so  many  distinct 
species,  instead  of  considering  them  mere  va/teties. 
Whether  they  may  be  species  or  not  is  still  a  question 
among  naturalists;  but  certain  it  is  that  two  well- 
defmed  species  do  exist,  which  differ  in  size,  form, 
color,  and  habits.  These  arc  the  large  or  common 
wolf  (  Cams  lupus) ,  and  the  barking  or  prairie  wolf 
{Cani*  latrans).  The  first  species  is  the  American 
representative  of  the  common  wolf  of  Euix)pe ;  and 


AND   -WOLTERISNC 


"»i.) 


•Ithougli  an  animal  of  similar  nature  and  habits,  H 
differs  very  mu^h  from  the  latter  in  form  and  appear* 
ance.  It  is,  therefore,  not  the  sanuy  as  hitherto  sup* 
posed.  Tliis  American  wolf  is  found  in  greater  or 
less  numbers  throughout  the  whole  continent ;  but  io 
the  northern  regions  it  is  verj  common,  and  is  seen 
in  at  least  five  different  varieties,  known  by  the  char* 
acteristic  names  of  blacky  piedf  white,  dtuhyj  and  graif 
wolves.  Of  these  the  gray  is  the  most  numerout 
kind ;  but  as  I  shall  have  occasion  to  speak  of  the 
large  wolves  hereafter,  I  shall  say  no  more  of  them  at 
present,  but  direct  your  attention  to  the  second  and 
very  different  species,  the  prairie  wolves. 

These  are  a  full  third  smaller  than  the  common 
kind.  They  are  swifter,  and  go  in  larger  packs. 
They  bring  forth  their  young  in  burrows  on  the  open 
plain,  and  not  among  the  woods,  like  the  other  species. 
They  are  the  most  cunning  of  American  animals,  not 
excepting  their  kindred  the  foxes.  They  cannot  be 
trapped  by  any  contrivance,  but  by  singular  ma- 
noeuvres often  themselves  decoy  the  over-curious  an- 
telope to  approach  too  near  them.  When  a  gun  ia 
fired  upon  the  prairies  they  may  be  seen  starting  up 
on  all  sides,  and  running  for  the  spot  in  hopes  of 
coming  in  for  a  share  of  the  game.  Should  an  ani- 
mal— deer,  antelope,  or  buffalo — be  wounded,  and 
escape  the  hunter,  it  is  not  likely  to  escape  them  also. 
They  will  set  after  it,  and  run  it  down,  if  the  wound 
has  been  a  mortal  one.  On  the  other  hand,  if  the 
wound  has  been  only  slight,  and  is  not  likely  in  the 
end  to  cripple  the  animal,  the  wolves  will  not  stii 
from  the  spot.    This  extraordinary  saga<dty  oflen  tellt 


I 


140 


WAPITI,   WOLTES, 


tlio  hunter  whether  it  is  worth  his  while  to  tollow  tht 
game  he  has  shot  at ;  but  in  any  case  he  is  likelj'  to 
arrive  late,  if  the  wolves  set  out  before  him,  as  a 
dozen  of  them  will  devour  the  largest  deer  in  a  few 
minutes*  time.  The  prairie  wolves  as  well  as  the 
others  follow  the  herds  of  buffaloes,  and  attack  Ihe 
gravid  cows  and  calves  when  separated  from  the  rest. 
Frequently  they  sustain  a  contest  with  the  bulls, 
when  the  latter  are  old  or  wounded,  but  on  such  occa 
Bions  many  of  them  get  killed  before  the  old  buU  be- 
comes their  prey. 

They  resemble  the  common  gray  wolf  in  color,  but 
there  are  varieties  in  this  respect,  though  not  so  great 
as  among  the  larger  species.  Their  voice  is  entirely 
different,  and  consists  of  three  distinct  barks,  ending 
in  a  prolonged  howl.  Hence  the  specific  and  usual 
name  "barking- wolf"  (C.  latrans).  They  are  found 
only  in  the  western  or  prairie  half  of  the  continent, 
and  thence  west  to  the  Pacific  Their  northern 
range  is  limited  to  the  fifty-fifth  parallel  of  latitude  — 
but  they  are  met  with  southward  throughout  Mexico, 
where  they  are  common  enough,  and  known  by  the 
name  of  "  coyote." 

Their  skins  are  an  article  of  trade  with  the  IIud> 
son's  Bay  Company.  The  fur  is  of  about  the  same 
quality  with  that  of  other  wolves,  and  consists  of  long 
hairs,  with  a  thick  wool  at  the  base.  In  commerce 
they  are  termed  "  cased  wolves,"  because  their  skins, 
on  being  removed,  are  not  split  open  as  with  the  large 
wolf-skins,  but  are  stripped  off  after  the  manner  of  rab- 
bits, and  then  turned  inside  out,  or  "  cased,"  a£  it  ii 
teimed. 


AND    WOLVERENE. 


141 


So  much  for  the  Cams  latrant, 

"  Prairie  wolves  1 "  said  Basil,  in  answer  to  the 
question  put  by  bis  cousin. 

"  There  must  be  something  the  matter  with  one  of 
the  bucks,  then,"  remarked  Norman,  "  or  else  there'i 
a  good  big  pack  of  the  wolves,  and  they  expect  to  tire 
one  down.  I  believe  they  sometimes  do  try  it  that 
way." 

"  There  appears  to  be  a  large  pack,"  answered  Basil, 
still  looking  through  the  glass ;  "  fifty  at  least.  —  See ! 
they  have  separated  one  of  the  bucks  from  the  herd 
—  it's  running  this  way !  " 

Basil's  companions  had  noticed  this  as  soon  as  him- 
self, and  all  four  now  leaped  to  their  guns.  The 
wapiti  was  plainly  coming  towards  them,  and  they 
could  now  distinguish  the  wolves  following  upon  his 
heels,  strung  out  over  the  prairie  like  a  pack  of 
hounds.  When  first  started,  the  buck  was  a  full  half- 
mile  distant,  but  in  less  than  a  minute's  time  he  came 
breasting  forward  until  the  boys  could  see  his  spar- 
kling  eyes  and  the  play  of  his  proud  flanks.  He  waa 
a  noble  animal  to  look  at.  His  horns  were  full  grown, 
but  still  "  in  the  velvet,"  and  as  he  ran  with  his  snout 
thrown  forward,  his  antlers  lay  along  both  sides  of  his 
neck  until  their  tips  touched  his  shoulders.  He  con- 
tinued on  in  a  direct  line  until  he  was  within  less  than 
a  hundred  paces  of  the  camp ;  but,  perceiving  the 
smoke  of  the  fire,  and  the  figures  crouching  around 
it,  he  swerved  suddenly  from  his  course,  and  darted 
into  the  thicket  of  willows,  where  he  was  for  the  mo- 
juent  hidden  from  view.  The  wolves  —  fifty  of  them 
at  least  —  had  followed  him  up  to  this  point ;  and  ai 


r  I 


f.'' 


142 


WAPITI,   WOLVES, 


[ 


,=-, 


K- 


ho  entered  the  thicket  several  had  be^^u  close  upon 
his  heels.  1  he  boys  expected  to  see  the  wolves  rush 
in  after  him  -  —  as  there  appeared  to  be  no  inipediment 
to  their  doing  so  —  but,  to  ihe  astonishment  of  ali,  the 
latter  came  to  a  sudden  halt,  and  then  went  sneaking 
back  —  some  of  them  even  running  off  as  if  terrified ! 
At  first  the  hunters  attiibuted  this  strange  conduct  to 
thoir  own  presence,  and  the  smoke  of  the  camp  ;  but 
a  moment's  reflection  convinced  them  that  this  could 
cDt  be  the  reason  of  it,  as  they  were  all  well  acquaint- 
ed with  the  nature  of  the  prairie  wolf,  and  had  never 
witnessed  a  similar  exhibition  before. 

They  had  no  time  to  think  of  the  wolves  just  then. 
The  buck  was  the  main  attraction,  and,  calling  to  each 
other  to  surround  the  thicket,  all  four  started  in  differ- 
ent directions.  In  a  couple  of  minutes  they  had 
placed  themselves  at  nearly  equal  distances  around 
the  copse,  and  stood  watching  eagerly  for  the  I'eap- 
pearance  of  the  wapiti. 

The  willows  covered  about  an  acre  of  ground,  but 
they  were  tolerably  thick  and  full-leaved,  and  the 
buck  could  not  be  seen  from  any  side.  Whorever  he 
was.  he  was  evidently  at  a  stand-still,  for  not  a  rustle 
could  be  heard  among  the  leaves,  nor  were  any  of  the 
tall  stalks  seen  to  move. 

Marengo  was  now  -cat  in.  I'his  would  soon  start 
him,  and  all  four  stood  with  guns  cocked  and  ready. 
But  before  the  dog  had  made  three  lengths  of  himself 
into  the  thicket,  a  loud  snort  was  heard,  followed  by 
a  struggle  and  the  stamping  of  hoofs,  and  the  next 
moment  the  wapiti  came  crashing  through  the  bushea 
A  shot  was  fired  —  it  was  the  crack  of  Lucien's  smal 


!,1 


AND    WOLVEREHE. 


143 


rifle  —  but  it  had  missed,  for  the  buck  was  seen  pass- 
ing onward  and  outward.  All  ran  round  to  the  side 
he  had  taken,  and  had  a  full  view  of  the  animal  as  he 
bounded  off.  Instead  of  running  fiee  as  before,  he 
now  leaped  heavily  forward,  and  what  was  their  as- 
tonishment on  seeing  that  he  carried  another  animal 
upon  his  back  ! 

The  hunters  could  hardly  believe  their  eyes,  but 
there  it  was,  sure  enough,  a  brown  shaggy  mass,  lying 
flat  along  the  shoulders  of  the  wapiti,  and  clutching  it 
with  large  spreading  claws.  Franyois  cried  out,  "  A 
panther  !  "  and  Basil  at  first  believed  it  to  be  a  bear, 
but  it  was  hardly  large  enough  for  that.  Norman, 
however,  who  had  lived  more  in  those  parts  where  the 
animal  is  found,  knew  it  at  once  to  be  the  dreaded 
"  wolverene."  Its  head  could  not  be  seen,  as  that  was 
hid  behind  the  shoulder  of  the  wapiti,  whose  throat  it 
was  engaged,  in  tearing.  But  its  short  legs  and  broad 
paws,  its  bushy  tail  and  long  shaggy  hair,  together 
with  its  round-arching  back  and  dark-brown  color, 
were  all  familiar  marks  to  the  young  fur-trader  ;  and 
he  at  once  pronounced  it  a  *'  wolverene." 

When  first  seen,  both  it  and  the  wapiti  were  beyond 
the  reach  of  their  rifles ;  and  the  hunters,  surprised 
by  such  an  unexpected  apparition,  had  suddenly 
halted.  F''an9ois  and  Basil  were  about  to  renew  the 
pursuit,  but  were  prevented  by  Norman,  who  couq- 
Belled  them  to  remain  where  they  were. 

"  Tiiey  won't  go  far,"  said  he ;  *'  let  us  watch  them 
A  bit.     See  !  the  buck  takes  the  water ! " 

The  wapiti,  on  leaving  the  willows,  had  run  straight 
oat  in  the  first  direction  that  offered,  which  happened 


r-1 


IM 


WAPITI,    WOLVES, 


to  be  in  a  line  parallel  with  the  edge  of  the  lake.  Hte 
eye,  however,  soon  caught  sight  of  the  water,  and, 
doubling  suddenly  round,  he  made  directly  towards  it, 
evidently  with  the  intention  of  plunging  in.  He  had 
hope6,  no  doubt,  that  by  this  means  he  might  rid  him- 
Bclf  of  the  terrble  creature  that  was  clinging  to  hia 
shoulders  and  tearing  his  throat  to  pieces. 

A  few  bounds  brought  him  to  the  shore.  There 
was  no  beach  at  the  spot.  The  bank  —  a  limestone 
bluflT —  rose  steeply  from  the  water's  edge  to  a  height 
of  eight  feet,  and  the  lake  under  it  was  several  fath- 
oms in  depth.  The  buck  did  not  hesitate,  l)ut  sprang 
outward  and  downwards.  A  heavy  splash  followed, 
and  for  some  seconds  both  wapiti  and  wolverene  were 
lost  under  the  water.  They  rose  to  the  tinrface  just 
as  the  boys  reached  the  bank,  but  they  carao  up  sep' 
arately.  The  dip  had  proved  a  cooler  to  the  fierce 
wolverene ;  and  while  the  wapiti  was  seen  to  strike 
boldly  out  into  the  lake  and  swim  off,  the  latter  — 
evidently  out  of  his  element  —  kept  plunging  about 
clumsily,  and  struggling  to  get  back  to  the  shore. 
Their  position  upon  the  cliff  above  gave  the  hunters 
an  excellent  opportunity  with  their  rifles,  and  both 
Basil  and  Norman  sent  their  bullets  into  the  wolver- 
ene's back.  Franfois  also  emptied  his  double-bar- 
relled gun  at  the  same  object,  and  the  shaggy  brute 
sank  dead  to  the  bottom  of  the  lake.  Strange  to  say, 
not  one  of  the  party  had  thought  of  firing  at  the  buck. 
This  persecution  by  so  many  enemies  had  won  for  him 
their  sympathy,  and  they  would  now  have  suffered 
liim  to  go  free ;  but  the  prospect  of  fresh  venison  for 
supper  overcame  their  commiseration,  and  the  moment 


1.1 


AND   WOLVERENE. 


145 


li 


the  wolverene  was  despatched  all  set  about  securing 
the  deer.  Their  guns  were  reloaded,  and,  scattering 
along  the  shore,  they  prepared  to  await  his  return. 
But  the  buck,  seeing  there  was  nothing  but  death  in 
Lis  rear,  swam  on,  keeping  almost  in  a  direct  line  out 
into  the  lake.  It  was  evident  to  all  that  he  ould  not 
Bwim  a:^ross  the  lake,  as  its  farther  shore  was  not  even 
visible.  He  must  either  return  to  where  they  were, 
or  drown  ;  and  knowing  this  to  be  his  only  alternative, 
they  stood  still  and  watched  his  motionv^.  When  he 
had  got  about  half  a  mile  from  the  shore,  to  the  sur- 
prise of  all,  he  was  seen  to  rise  higher  and  higher 
above  the  surface,  and  then  all  at  once  stop,  with  half 
of  his  body  clear  out  of  the  water !  He  had  come 
upon  a  shoal,  and,  knowing  the  advantage  of  it, 
seemed  determined  to  remain  there. 

Basil  and  Norman  ran  to  the  canoe,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  the  little  craft  was  launched,  and  shooting 
through  the  waic..  The  buck  now  saw  that  it  was 
likely  to  be  all  up  with  him,  and,  instead  of  attempt- 
ing to  swim  farther,  he  faced  round  and  set  his  antlera 
forward  in  a  threatening  attitude.  But  his  pursuers 
did  not  give  him  the  chance  to  make  a  rush.  When 
within  fifty  yards  or  so,  Norman,  who  usp'^  the  pad- 
dles, stopped  and  steadied  the  canoe,  a,nd  the  next 
moment  the  crack  of  Basil's  rifle  echoed  over  the  lake, 
and  the  wapiti  fell  upon  the  water,  where,  after 
struggling  a  moment,  he  lay  dead. 

The  canoe  was  paddled  up,  and  his  antlers  being 
made  fast  to  the  stern,  he  was  towed  back  to  the  shore, 
and  carried  into  camp.  What  now  surprised  our 
voyageurs  was,  ^heir  finding  that  the  wapiti  had  been 


^ 


■■■«■ 


WAPITI,   WOLVES,  ANi/   T»^OLVEEENB. 


1 

! 

I 


wounded  before  encountering  either  the  wolves,  wolvoi^ 
ene,  or  themselves.  An  arrow-head,  with  u  short  piecs 
of  the  shaft,  was  sticking  in  one  of  his  thighs.  The 
Indians,  then,  had  been  after  him,  and  very  lately  too, 
HS  the  wound  showed.  It  was  not  a  mortal  wound, 
had  the  arrow-head  been  removed ;  but  of  course,  aa 
it  was,  it  would  have  proved  his  death  in  the  long  run. 
This  explained  why  the  wolves  had  assailed  an  animal, 
that  otherwise,  from  his  great  size  and  strength,  would 
have  defied  them.  The  wolverene,  moreover,  rarely 
attacks  game  so  large  as  the  wapiti ;  but  the  latter  had, 
no  doubt,  chanced  upon  the  lair  of  his  fierce  enemy, 
who  could  not  resist  such  a  tempting  opportunity  of 
getting  a  meal.  The  wolves  had  seen  the  wolverene 
as  they  approached  the  thicket,  and  that  accounted  for 
their  strange  behavior  in  tUe  pursuit.  These  creatures 
are  as  great  cowards  as  they  are  tyrants,  and  their 
dread  of  a  wolverene  is  equal  to  that  with  which  they 
themselves  often  inspire  the  wounded  deer. 


▲  PAIB  OF   DEEP  OIVEBS. 


147 


CHAPTER  XV. 


A  PAIR  OF  DEEP  DIVERS. 


The  wapiti  was  carefully  skinned,  and  the  skia 
ipread  out  to  dry.  Since  tlieir  mishap  our  voyageura 
had  been  very  short  of  clothing.  The  three  skins  of 
the  woodland  caribou  had  made  only  a  pair  of  jackets, 
instead  of  full  hunting-shirts,  and  even  these  were 
pinched  fits.  For  beds  and  bed-clothes  they  had 
nothing  but  the  hides  of  buffaloes,  and  these,  although 
good  as  far  as  they  went,  were  only  enough  for  two. 
Lucien,  the  most  delicate  of  the  party,  appropriated 
one,  as  the  others  insisted  upon  his  so  doing.  Fran- 
cois had  the  other.  As  for  Basil  and  Norman,  they 
were  forced  each  night  to  lie  upon  the  naked  earth, 
and  but  for  the  large  fires  which  they  kept  blazing  all 
the  night,  they  would  have  suffered  severely  from  cold. 
Indeed,  they  did  suffer  quite  enough ;  for  some  of  the 
nights  were  so  cold,  that  it  was  impossible  to  sleep  L^ 
the  largest  fire  without  one-half  of  their  bodies  feeling 
chilled.  The  usual  practice  with  travellers  in  the  Fai 
West  is  to  lie  with  their  feet  to  the  fire,  while  the  head 
is  at  the  greatest  distance  from  it.  This  is  considered 
the  best  mode,  for  so  long  as  the  f«et  are  warm,  the  rest 
of  the  body  will  not  suffer  badly ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  if 
the  feet  are  allowed  to  get  cold,  no  matter  what  state  the 
other  parts  be  in,  it  is  impossible  to  sleep  with  comfrrti 


148 


A  PAIB   OF  DEEP  DITESS. 


Of  course  our  young  voyageurs  followed  the  wel  l-known 
practice  of  the  country,  and  lay  with  their  feci  to  the 
fire  in  such  a  manner  that,  when  all  were  placed,  their 
bodies  formed  four  radii  of  a  circle,  of  which  the  fire 
was  the  centre.  Marengo  usually  lay  beside  Basil, 
whom  he  looked  upon  as  his  proper  master. 

Notwithstanding  a  bed  of  grass  and  leaves  which 
they  each  night  spread  for  themselves,  they  were  sadly 
in  want  of  blankets,  and  therefore  the  skin  of  the  wa- 
piti, which  was  a  very  fine  one,  would  be  a  welcome 
addition  to  their  stock  of  bedding.  They  resolved, 
therefore,  to  remain  one  day  where  they  had  killed  it, 
20  that  the  skin  might  be  dried  and  receive  a  partial 
dressing.  Moreover,  they  intended  to  "  jerk  "  some 
of  the  meat  —  although  elk-venison  is  not  considered 
very  palatable  where  other  meat  can  be  had.  It  ia 
without  juice,  and  resembles  dry  short-grained  beef 
more  than  venison.  For  this  reason  it  is  looked  upon 
by  both  Indians  and  white  hunters  as  inferior  to  buffalo, 
moose,  caribou,  or  even  the  common  deer.  One  pecu- 
liarity of  the  flesh  of  this  animal  is,  that  the  fat  be- 
comes hard  the  moment  it  is  taken  off  the  fire.  It 
freezes  upon  the  lips  like  suet,  and  clings  around  the 
teeth  of  a  person  eating  it,  which  is  not  the  case  with 
that  of  other  species  of  deer.  The  skin  of  the  wapiti, 
however,  is  held  in  high  esteem  among  the  Indians. 
It  is  thinner  than  that  of  the  moose,  but  makes  a 
much  better  article  of  leather.  When  dressed  in  the 
Indian  fashion  —  that  is  to  say,  soaked  in  a  lather 
composed  of  the  brains  and  fat  of  the  animal  itselC 
and  then  washed,  dried,  scraped,  and  smoked  —  it  be« 
romes  as  sofland  pliable  as  a  kid  glove,  and  will  wasli 


A  PAIB   OF   DEEP  DIYEBS. 


149 


and  dry  witliout  stiffening  like  chamois  leather.  That 
ws  a  great  advantage  which  it  has,  in  the  eyes  of  the 
Indians,  over  the  skins  of  other  species  of  deer,  as  the 
moose  and  caribou  —  for  the  leather  made  from  these, 
after  a  wetting,  becomes  harsh  and  rigid,  and  requires 
9  great  deal  of  rubbing  to  render  it  soft  again. 

liuMen  knew  how  to  dress  the  elk-hide,  and  could 
nuke  leather  out  of  it  as  well  as  any  Indian  squaw  in 
the  country.  But  travelling  as  they  were,  there  was 
Dot  a  good  opportunity  for  that ;  so  they  were  content 
to  give  it  such  a  dressing  as  the  circumstances  might 
allow.  It  was  spread  out  on  a  frame  of  willow-poles, 
and  set  up  in  front  of  the  fire,  to  be  scraped  at  inter- 
vals  and  cleared  of  the  fatty  matter,  as  well  as  the 
numerous  parasites  that  at  this  season  adhere  to  the 
skins  of  the  wapiti. 

While  Lucien  was  framing  the  skin,  Basil  and  Nor- 
man occupied  themselves  in  cutting  the  choice  pieces 
of  the  meat  into  thin  slices  and  hanging  them  up  be- 
fore the  fire.  This  job  being  finished,  all  sat  down  to 
watch  Lucien  currying  his  hide. 

"  Ho,  boys ! "  cried  Fran9oi8,  starting  up  as  if 
something  had  occurred  to  him ;  "  what  about  the 
wolverene?  It's  a  splendid  skin  —  why  not  get  it 
too?" 

"  True  enough,**  replied  Norman,  "  we  had  forgot- 
ten that.  But  the  beast's  gone  to  the  bottom  —  how 
can  we  get  at  him  ?  " 

"  Why,  fish  him  up,  to  be  sure,"  said  Fran9ois. 
"  Lcv's  splice  one  of  these  willow-poles  to  my  ramrod, 
and  I'll  screw  it  into  him,  and  draw  him  to  tlie  surface 
b  a  jiffy.    Come  J " 


w 


150 


A   PAIR   OF  DEEP   DIVERS. 


**  We  must  get  the  canoe  roumi,  then,"  said  Nor* 
num.  **  The  bank's  too  steep  for  us  to  reach  him  with* 
out  it" 

"  Of  course,"  assented  Fran9ois,  at  the  same  time 
going  towards  the  willows ;  "  get  jou  the  canoe  into 
the  water,  while  I  cut  the  sapling." 

"  Stay  1 "  cried  Basil,  "  I'll  ahow  you  a  shorter 
method.    Marengo  1 " 

As  Basil  said  this,  he  rose  to  his  feet  and  walked 
down  to  the  bluff  where  they  had  shot  the  wolverene. 
All  of  them  followed  him  as  well  as  Marengo,  who 
boLiided  triumphantly  from  side  to  side,  knowing  he 
was  wanted  for  some  important  enterprise. 

"  Do  you  expect  the  dog  to  fetch  him  out  ? "  in* 
quired  Norman. 

«  No,"  repUed  Basil ;  «  only  to  help." 

"How?"  ' 

"  Wait  a  moment  —  you  shall  see." 

Basil  flung  down  his  'coon-skin  cap,  and  stripped 
off  his  caribou  jacket,  then  his  striped  cotton  shirt 
then  his  under-shirt  of  tawn  skin,  and  lastly  his  trou- 
sers, leggings,  and  moccasons.    He  was  now  as  naked 
as  Adam.  « 

"  I'll  show  you,  cousin,"  said  he,  addressing  him- 
self to  Norman,  "  how  we  take  the  water  down  there 
on  the  Mississippi."  . 

So  saying,  he  stepped  forward  to  the  edge  of  the 
bluff;  and  having  carefully  noted  the  spot  where  the 
wolverene  had  gone  down,  turned  to  the  dog,  and 
simply  said,  — 

"Ho!  Marengo!    Chez  moi!** 

The  dog  answered  with  a  whimper,  and  a  look  of 


I 


A   PAIR   OF   DEEP  DITERS. 


15] 


intelligence  which  showed  that  he  understood  his  ma» 
tev's  wish. 

Basil  again  pointed  to  the  lake,  raised  his  amu 
over  his  head,  placing  his  palms  close  together, 
launched  himself  out  into  the  air,  and  shot  down  head 
foremost  into  *,he  water. 

Marengo,  uttering  a  loud  bay,  sprang  after  so  quick- 
ly that  the  plunges  were  almost  simultaneous,  and 
both  master  and  dog  were  for  some  time  hidden  from 
view.  The  latter  rose  first,  but  it  was  a  lorg  time 
before  Basil  came  to  the  surface  —  so  long  that  Nor* 
man  and  the  others  were  beginning  to  feel  uneasy, 
and  to  regard  the  water  with  some  anxiety.  At 
length,  however,  a  spot  was  seen  to  bubble,  several 
yards  fro  where  he  had  gone  down,  and  the  bladk 
head  of  xj.jtsil  appeared  above  the  surface.  It  was 
seen  that  he  held  something  in  his  teeth,  and  was 
pushing  a  heavy  body  before  him,  which  they  saw 
was  the  wolverene* 

Marengo,  who  swam  near,  now  seized  hold  of  the 
object,  aad  pulled  it  away  from  his  master,  who,  call- 
ing to  the  dog  to  follow,  struck  out  towards  a  point 
where  the  bank  was  low  and  shelving.  In  a  few 
minutes  Basil  reached  a  landing-place,  and  shortly 
after  Marengo  arrived,  towing  the  wolverene,  which 
was  speedily  pulled  out  upon  the  bank,  and  carried, 
or  rather  dragged,  by  Norman  and  Fran9ois  to  the 
»unp.  Lucien  brought  Basil's  clothes,  and  all  fouf 
mce  more  assembled  around  the  blazing  fire. 

There  is  not  a  more  hideous-looking  animal  in 
America  than  the  wolverene.  His  thick  body  and 
ihort,  stout  legs,  his  shaggy  coat  and  bushy  tail,  bui 


152 


A   FAIR   OF   DEEP   DIYKR9. 


•boTS  alL,  hib  long  curving  claws  and  dog-like  javr^ 
give  him  a  formidable  appearanct.  His  gait  is  low 
and  skulking,  and  his  look  bold  and  vicious.  He 
walks  somewhat  like  a  bear,  and  his  tracks  are  oflen 
mistaken  for  those  of  that  animal.  Indians  and  hunt- 
ers, however,  know  the  diiTerence  well.  His  hind  feet 
are  plantigrade,  that  is,  they  rest  upon  the  ground 
from  heel  to  toe ;  and  his  back  curves  like  the  seg- 
Bunni  of  a  circle.  He  is  fierce  and  extremely  vora« 
eiuus  —  quite  as  much  so  as  the  ^  ghuton,"  of  which 
he  is  the  American  representative.  No  animal  is 
more  destructive  to  the  small  game,  and  he  will  also 
attack  and  devour  the  larger  kinds  when  he  can  get 
hold  of  them ;  but  as  he  is  somewhat  slow,  he  can 
only  seize  most  of  them  by  stratagem.  It  is  a  com- 
mon belief  that  be  lies  in  wait  upon  trees  and  rocks 
to  seize  the  deer  passing  beneath.  It  has  been  also 
asserted  that  he  places  moss,  such  as  these  animals 
feed  upon,  under  his  perch,  in  order  to  entice  them 
within  reach ;  and  it  has  been  still  further  asserted, 
that  the  arctic  foxes  assist  him  in  his  plans,  by  hunt- 
ing the  deer  towards  the  spot  where  he  lies  in  wait, 
thus  acting  as  his  jackals.  These  assertions  have 
been  made  more  particularly  about  his  European 
eousin,  the  "glutton,"  about  whom  other  stories  are 
lold  equally  strange — one  of  them,  that  he  eats  until 
scarce  able  to  walk,  and  then  draws  his  body  through 
a  narrow  space  between  two  trees,  in  order  to  relieve 
himself  and  get  ready  for  a  fresh  meal.  Bufibn  and 
others  have  given  credence  to  these  tales,  upon  the 
authority  of  one  ^  Olaus  Magnus,"  whose  name,  from 
the  circumstance,  might  be  translated  "  greai  fibb<*r 


A  PAIR   OF   DEEP  DIV£B8 


15fl 


rhere  i3  no  doubt,  however,  that  the  glutton  is  one 
of  the  most  sagacious  of  animals,  and  so,  loo,  is  the 
wolverene.  The  latter  gives  proof  of  this  by  many 
of  his  habits ;  one  in  particular  fully  illustrates  hia 
cunning.  It  is  this.  The  marten  trappers  of  the 
Hudson  Bay  territory  set  their  traps  in  the  snow, 
often  extending  over  a  line  of  fifty  miles.  These 
traps  are  constructed  out  of  pieces  of  wood  found  near 
the  spot,  and  are  baited  with  the  heads  of  partridges, 
or  pieces  of  venison,  of  which  the  marten  {Muatela 
martes)  is  very  fond.  As  soon  as  the  marten  seizes 
the  bait,  a  trigger  is  touched,  and  a  heavy  piece  of 
wood,  falling  upon  the  animal,  crushes  or  holds  it  fast 
Now  the  wolverene  enters  the  trap  from  behind,  tears 
the  back  out  of  it  before  touching  the  bait,  and  thus 
avoids  the  falling  log  I  Moreover,  he  will  follow  the 
tracks  of  the  trapper  from  one  to  another,  until  he  has 
destroyed  the  whole  line.  Should  a  martea  happen 
to  have  been  before  him,  and  got  caught  in  the  trap, 
he  rarely  e^er  eats  it,  as  he  is  not  fond  of  its  flesh. 
Bui  he  is  not  satisfied  to  leave  it  as  he  finds  it.  He 
usually  digs  it  from  under  the  log,  tears  it  to  pieces, 
and  then  buries  it  under  the  snuw.  The  foxes,  who 
are  well  aware  of  this  habit,  and  who  themselves 
greedily  eat  the  marten,  are  frequently  seen  following 
him  upon  such  excursions.  They  are  not  strong 
enough  to  take  the  log  from  off  the  trapped  animal,  but 
from  their  keen  scent  can  soon  find  it  where  the  other 
has  buried  it  in  the  snow.  In  this  way,  instead  of 
their  being  providers  for  the  wolverene,  the  reverse 
is  the  true  story.  Notwithstanding,  the  wolverene 
mil  eat  them,  too,  whenever  he  can  get  his  clawi 


T 


154 


A   PAIR  OF  DEEP  DIVE118. 


npon  them;  but  as  they  are  much  siivifler  than  he^ 
rbis  seldom  happens.  The  foxes,  however,  are  them- 
ivlves  taken  in  traps,  or  more  commonly  shot  by  guns 
«et  for  the  purpose,  with  the  bait  attached  by  a  string 
to  tlie  trigger.  Often  the  wolverene,  finding  the 
foxes  dead  or  wounded,  makes  a  meal  of  them  before 
(he  hunter  comes  along  to  examine  his  traps  and 
guns.  The  wolverene  kills  many  of  the  foxes  while 
foung,  and  sometimes,  on  finding  their  burrow,  widens 
it  with  his  strong  claws,  and  eats  the  whole  family  in 
their  nests.  Even  young  wolves  sometimes  become 
his  prey.  I3|e  lives,  in  fact,  on  very  bftd  terms  with 
both  foxes  and  wolves,  and  often  robs  the  latter  of  a 
fat  deer  which  they  may  have  just  killed,  and  are 
preparing  to  dine  upon.  The  beaver,  however,  is  his 
favorite  food,  and  but  that  these  creatures  can  escape 
him  by  taking  to  the  water  —  in  which  element  he  is 
not  at  all  at  home  —  he  would  soon  exterminate  their 
whole  race.  His  great  strength  and  acute  scent 
enable  him  to  overcome  almost  every  wild  creature 
of  the  forest  or  prairie.  He  is  even  said  to  be  a  full 
match  for  either  the  panther  or  the  black  bear. 

The  wolverene  lives  in  clefts  of  rock,  or  in  hollow 
trees,  where  such  are  to  be  found ;  but  he  is  equally 
an  inhabitant  rf  the  forest  and  the  prairie.  He  ia 
found  in  fertile  districts,  as  well  as  in  the  most  remote 
deserts.  His  range  is  extensive,  but  he  is  properly  a 
danizen  of  the  cold  and  snowy  regions.  In  the  south- 
ern parts  of  the  United  States  he  is  no  longer  known; 
though  it  is  certain  that  he  once  lived  there  when 
those  countries  were  inhabited  by  the  beaver.  North 
of  latitude  40°  he  ranges  perhaps  to  the  pole  itselt,  m 


A   PAIU   OF  DEEP   DIVERS. 


lU 


traces  of  hinr.  nave  been  found  as  far  as  man  has  yet 
penetrated.  He  ik  a  solitary  creature,  and,  like  moHt 
predatory  animals,  a  nocturnal  prowler.  The  female 
brings  forth  two.  sometimes  three  and  four,  at  a  birth. 
The  cubs  are  of  a  cream  color,  and  only  when  full- 
grown  acquire  that  dark-brown  hue,  which  in  the  ex- 
treme of  winter  often  passes  into  black.  The  fur  is 
not  unlike  that  of  the  bear,  but  is  shorter-haired,  and 
of  less  value  than  a  bear-skin.  Notwithstanding,  it 
is  an  article  of  trade  with  the  Hudson's  Bay  Com- 
pany, who  procure  many  thousands  of  the  skins  an- 
nually. 

The  Canadian  voyageurs  call  the  wolverene  ''car- 
cajjn;"  while  among  the  Orkney  and  Scotch  ser- 
vants of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company  he  is  oflener 
known  as  the  "  quickhatch."  It  is  supposed  that  both 
these  names  are  corruptions  of  the  Cree  word  okee- 
coo-haw-gew  (the  name  of  the  wolverene  among  the 
Indians  of  that  tribe).  Many  words  from  the  same 
language  have  been  adopted  by  both  voyageurs  and 
traders. 

Those  points  in  the  natural  history  of  the  wolverene, 
that  might  be  called  scientific,  were  imparted  by  Lu- 
cien,  while  Norman  furnished  the  information  about 
its  habits.  Norman  knew  the  animal  as  one  of  the. 
most  common  in  the  *'  trade ; "  and  in  addition  to 
what  we  have  recorded,  also  related  many  adventures 
and  stories  current  among  the  voyageurs,  in  which 
this  creature  figures  in  quite  as  fanciful  a  manner,  ai 
he  does  in  the  works  either  of  Olais  Magnus,  q\ 
Count  dc  Bufiba 


^ 


r\ 


156 


A    ORAIfD   SUNDAY   DmHEB. 


hi 


CIIAFrER  XVL 
A  GRAND  SUNDAY  DINNER. 

After  remaining  a  day  at  their  first  camp  on  the 
Uke,  our  voyageurs  continued  their  journey'.  Their 
«X)urse  lay  a  little  to  the  west  of  north,  as  the  edge  of 
the  lake  trended  in  that  direction.  Their  usual  plan, 
as  already  stated,  was  to  keep  out  in  the  lake  far 
enough  to  shun  the  numerous  indentations  of  the  shore, 
yet  not  so  far  as  to  endanger  their  little  craft  when 
the  wind  was  high.  A*  night  they  always  landed, 
either  upon  some  point  or  on  an  island.  Some- 
times the  wind  blew  "  dead  ahead,"  and  then  their 
day's  journey  would  be  only  a  few  miles.  When  the 
wind  was  favorable  they  made  good  progress,  using 
the  skin  of  the  wapiti  for  a  sail.  On  one  of  these 
days  they  reckoned  a  distance  of  over  forty  miles 
from  camp  to  camp. 

It  was  their  custom  always  to  lie  by  on  Sunday,  for 
our  young  voyageurs  were  Christians.  They  had 
done  so  on  their  former  expedition  across  the  south- 
ern praines,  and  they  had  found  the  practice  to  their 
advantage  in  a  physical  as  well  as  a  moral  sen*^ 
They  required  the  rest  thus  obtained;  besides,  a 
genei'al  cleaning  up  is  necessary,  at  least  once  every 
week.  Sunday  was  also  a  day  of  feasting  with  them. 
They  had  more  time  to   devote  to  culinary  oper» 


;■» 


GUA»D   SUNDAY  DINNEB. 


157  I 


tM)n.4,  and  the  cuisine  of  that  day  was  always  the  most 
varied  of  the  week.  Any  extm  delicacy  obtained  by 
the  rifle  on  previous  days,  was  usually  reserved  foi 
the  Sunday's  dinner. 

On  the  first  Sunday  afler  entering  Lake  Winnipeg 
the  *'  camp  "  chanced  to  be  upon  an  island.  It  was  a 
small  island,  of  only  a  few  acres  in  extent.  It  lay 
near  the  shore,  and  was  well  wooded  over  its  whole 
surface  with  trees  of  many  different  kinds.  Indeed, 
islands  in  a  large  lake  usually  have  a  great  variety 
of  tree^,  as  the  seeds  of  all  those  sorts  that  grow 
around  the  shores  are  carried  thither  by  the  waves,  or 
in  the  crops  of  the  numerous  birds  that  flit  over  ita 
waters.  But  as  the  island  in  question  lay  in  a  lake, 
whose  shores  exhibited  such  a  varied  geology,  it  was 
natural  the  vegetation  of  the  island  itself  should 
be  varied.  And,  in  truth,  it  was  so.  There  were 
upon  it,  down  by  the  water's  edge,  willows  and  cotton- 
v;oods  (Popidus  angulata),  the  characteristic  sylva  of 
the  prairie  land  ;  there  were  birches  and  sugar-maplea 
{Acer  saccharinum)  ;  and  upon  some  higher  ground, 
near  the  centre,  appeared  several  species  that  be- 
longed more  to  the  primitive  formations  that  bounded 
the  lake  on  the  east.  These  were  pines  and  spruces, 
tue  juniper,  and  tamarack  or  American  larch  {Laryx 
Americana) ;  and  among  others  could  be  distinguished 
the  darlf  cone-shaped  forms  of  the  ("ed  cedar  trees. 
Amonc  the  low  bushes  and  shrubs  there  were  rose 
aad  wild  raspberry ;  there  were  apple  and  plum  trees, 
and  whole  thickets  of  the  "  Pembina "  (  Viburnum 
oxycocccs).  There  is,  in  fact,  no  part  of  the  world 
A  here  a  greater  variety  of  wild  fruit  has  beeo  found 


n 


A. 


158 


A   GRAND    SUNDAY   DINNER. 


I 


iniigenous  than  upon  the  banks  of  the  Red  River  cf 
the  North,  and  this  variety  extended  to  the  little  isl- 
and where  our  voyageurs  had  encamped. 

The  camp  had  been  placed  under  a  beautiful  tret 
—  the  tacamahac,  or  balsam  poplar  {Poptdus  balsamic 
/era).  This  is  one  of  the  finest  trees  of  America,  and 
one  of  those  that  extend  farthest  north  into  the  cold 
countries.  In  favorable  situations  it  attains  a  height 
of  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet,  with  a  proportionate 
thickness  of  trunk ;  but  it  is  oftener  only  fifty  oi 
eighty  feet  high.  Its  leaves  are  oval,  and,  when 
young,  of  a  rich  yellowish  color,  which  changes  to  a 
bright  green.  The  buds  are  very  large,  yellow,  and 
covered  with  a  varnish,  which  exhales  a  delightful  fra- 
grance, and  gives  to  the  tree  its  specific  name. 

It  was  near  sunset  on  the  afternoon  of  Saturday ; 
the  travellers  had  just  finished  their  repast,  and  were 
reclining  around  a  fire  of  red  cedar,  whose  delicate 
smoke  curled  up  among  the  pale-green  leaves  of  the 
poplars.  The  fragrant  smell  of  the  burning  wood, 
mixed  with  the  aromatic  odor  of  the  balsam-tree, 
filled  the  air  with  a  sweet  perfume,  and,  almost  with 
out  knowing  why,  our  voyageurs  felt  a  sense  of  pleas- 
ure stealing  over  them.  The  woods  of  the  Httle  island 
were  not  v,  it  uut  their  voices.  The  scream  of  the  jay 
was  heard,  and  his  bright  azure  wing  appeared  now 
and  then  among  the  foliage.  The  scarlet  plumage  of 
the  cardinal  grosbeak  flashed  under  the  beams  of  the 
setting  sun ;  and  the  trumpet-note  of  the  ivory-billed 
woodpecker  was  heard  near  the  centre  of  the  island. 
An  ospray  was  circling  in  the  air,  with  his  eye  bent  on 
the  water  below,  watching  for  his  finny  prey ;  and  a 


V 


A   GRAND   SUNDAY   DINNER. 


]5» 


pair  of  bald  eagles  (HhUtsttts  leucocephcUus)  were 
winging  their  way  towards  the  adjacent  mainland. 
Half-a-dozen  turkey  vultures  (  Catha^tes  atratus)  were 
wheeling  above  the  beach,  where  some  object,  fish  ot 
carrion,  had  been  thrown  up  by  the  waves. 

For  some  time  the  party  remained  silent,  each  con- 
templating the  scene  with  feelings  of  pleiisure.  Fran- 
f  ois,  as  usual,  first  broke  the  silence. 

"  I  say,  cook,  what's  for  dinner  to-morrow  ?  " 

It  was  to  Lucien  this  speech  was  addressed.  He 
tras  regarded  as  the  maitre  de  cuisine, 

"Roast  or  boiled  —  which  would  you  prefer?'* 
asked  the  cook  with  a  significant  smile. 

"  Ha !  ha !  ha ! "  laughed  Franjois ;  "  boiled,  in- 
deed !  a  pretty  boil  we  could  have  in  a  tin  cup,  hold- 
ing less  than  a  pint.  I  wish  we  could  have  a  boiled 
joint  and  a  bowl  of  soup.  I'd  give  something  for  it. 
I'm  precious  tired  of  this  everlasting  dry  roast." 

"  You  shall  have  both,"  rejoined  Lucien,  "  for  to- 
morrow's dinner.  I  promise  you  both  the  soup  and 
t)ie  joint." 

Again  Fi'an9ois  laughed  incredulously. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  make  soup  in  your  shoe,  Luce  ?  " 

"  No ;  but  I  shall  make  it  in  this." 

And  Lucien  held  up  a  vessel  somewhat  like  a 
water-pail,  which  the  day  before  he  had  him&elf  made 
out  of  birch-bark. 

"  Well,"  replied  Fran9oi3,  "  I  know  you  have  got  a 
vessel  that  holds  water,  but  cold  water  ain't  soup ;  and 
if  you  can  boil  water  in  that  vessel,  I'll  believe  you  to 
be  a  conjurer.  I  know  you  can  do  some  curious  things 
with  your  chemical  mixtures ;  but  that  you  can't  do^ 


f 


!     1 


,1 


160 


A   GRAND    SUNDAT   DINNEK. 


I'm  sure.  Why,  man,  the  bottom  would  be  bamed 
out  of  your  bucket  before  the  water  got  blood-warm. 
Soup,  indeed ! " 

"Never  mind,  Frank,  you  shall  see.  You're  only 
like  the  rest  of  mankind  —  incredulous  about  every 
thing  they  can't  comprehend.  If  you'll  take  your 
huok  and  line,  and  catch  some  fish,  I  promise  to  give 
you  a  dinner  to-morrow,  with  all  the  regular  courses 
—  soup,  fish,  boiled,  roast,  and  dessert,  too !  I'm  sat- 
isfied I  can  do  all  that." 

"  Parhleu !  brother,  you  should  have  been  cook  to 
Lucullus.     Well,  I'll  catch  the  fish  for  you." 

So  saying,  Fran9ois  took  a  fish-hook  and  line  oat 
of  his  pouch,  and  fixing  a  large  grasshopper  upon  the 
hook,  stepped  forward  to  the  edge  of  the  water,  and 
cast  it  in.  The  float  was  soon  seen  to  bob  and  then 
sink,  and  Fran9ois  jerked  his  hook  ashore  with  a 
small  and  very  pretty  fish  upon  it  of  a  silver  hue, 
with  which  the  lake  and  the  waters  running  into  it 
abound.  Lucien  told  him  it  was  a  fish  of  the  genus 
Hyodon.  He  also  advised  him  tc  bait  with  a  worm, 
and  let  his  bait  sink  to  the  bottom,  and  he  might  catch 
a  sturgeon,  which  would  be  a  larger  fish. 

"  How  do  you  know  there  are  sturgeon  in  the  lake  ?  " 
inquired  Francois. 

"  I  am  pretty  sure  of  that,"  answered  the  naturalist ; 
*•  the  sturgeon  (Acipenser)  is  found  all  round  the  world 
in  the  northern  temperate  zone  —  both  in  its  seas  and 
fresh  waters  ;  although,  when  you  go  farther  south  into 
the  warmer  climate,  no  sturgeons  exist.  I  am  sure 
there  are  some  here,  perhaps  more  than  one  species. 
Sink  your  bait,  for  the  sturgeon  is  a  toothless  fish,  and 
feeds  upon  soft  substances  at  the  bottom." 


A    GRAND    SUNDAf    DINNER. 


ICl 


P'ran9ois  followed  the  advice  of  his  brother,  and  in 
a  few  minutes  he  had  a  "  nibble,"  and  drew  up  and 
landed  a  very  large  fish,  full  three  feet  in  length. 
Lucien  at  once  pronounced  it  a  sturgeon,  but  ot  a 
species  he  had  not  before  seen.  It  was  the  Ac/'penser 
carbonarius,  a  curious  sort  of  fish  found  in  these  \  aterei. 
It  did  not  look  like  a  fish  that  would  be  pleasant 
ea.lng  therefore  Francois  again  took  to  bobbing  for 
the  silver  fish  {Hyodons),  which,  though  small,  he 
knew  to  be  excellent  when  broiled. 

"  Come,"  said  Basil,  "  I  must  furnish  my  quota  to 
this  famous  dinner  that  is  to  be.  Let  me  see  what 
there  is  on  the  island  in  the  way  of  game ; "  and 
shouldering  his  rifle,  he  walked  off  among  the  trees. 

"  And  I,"  said  Norman,  "  am  not  going  to  eat  the 
produce  of  other  people's  labor  without  contributing 
my  share." 

So  the  young  trader  took  up  his  gun  and  went  off  in 
ti  different  direction. 

"  Good  I "  exclaimed  Lucien,  "  we  are  likely  to  have 
plenty  of  meat  for  the  dinner.  I  must  see  about  the 
vegetables ; "  and  taking  with  him  his  new-made 
vessel,  Lucien  sauntered  off  along  the  shore  of  the 
islet.  Fran9ois  alone  remained  by  the  camp,  and  con< 
tinued  his  fishing.  Let  us  follow  the  plant-hunter, 
and  learn  a  lesson  of  practical  botany. 

Lucien  had  not  gone  far,  when  he  came  to  what  ap- 
peared to  be  a  mere  sedge  growing  in  the  water.  The 
stalks  or  3ulms  of  this  sedge  were  full  eight  feet  high, 
with  smooth  leaves,  an  inch  broad,  nearly  a  yard  la 
length,  and  of  a  light  green  color.  At  the  top  of  each 
•talk  was  a  large  panicle  of  seeds,  somewhat  resom- 
11 


162 


A     IRAND    SUNDAY   DINNER. 


(>Iing  a  head  of  oats.  The  plant  itself  «/as  the  famoui 
wild  rice  {Zizania  aquatica),  so  much  prized  by  the 
Indians  as  an  article  of  food,  and  also  the  favorite  of 
many  wild  birds,  especially  the  reed-bird  or  rice-bunt* 
ing.  The  grain  of  the  zizania  was  not  yet  ripe,  but  the 
ears  were  tolerably  well  filled,  and  Lucien  saw  that  it 
would  do  for  his  purpose.  He  therefore  waded  in, 
and  stripped  off  into  his  vessel  as  much  as  he  wanted. 

"  I  am  safe  for  rice-soup,  at  all  events,"  soliloquized 
he,  "  but  I  think  I  can  do  still  better ; "  and  he  con- 
tinued on  around  the  shore,  and  shortly  after  struck 
into  some  h^avy  timber  that  grew  in  a  damp,  rich  soil. 
He  had  walked  about  a  hundred  yards  farther,  when 
he  was  seen  to  stoop  and  examine  some  object  on  the 
ground. 

"  It  ought  to  be  found  here,"  he  muttered  to  himself; 
"  this  is  the  very  soil  for  it,  —  yes,  here  we  have  it ! " 

The  object  over  which  he  was  stooping  was  a  plant, 
but  its  leaves  appeared  shrivelled,  or  rather  quite 
withered  away.  The  upper  part  of  a  bulbous  root, 
however,  was  just  visible  above  the  surface.  It  was  a 
bulb  of  the  wild  leek  {Allium  tricoccum).  The  leaves, 
when  young,  are  about  six  inches  in  length,  of  a  flat 
shape,  and  often  three  inches  broad ;  but,  strange  to 
Bay,  they  shrivel  or  die  off  very  early  in  the  season,  — 
<^,ven  before  the  plant  flowers,  and  then  it  is  diflicult  to 
find  the  bulb.  *■      ■ 

Lucien,  however,  had  sharp  eyes  for  such  things ; 
and  in  a  short  while  he  had  rooted  out  several  bulbs 
as  large  as  pigeons'  eggs,  and  deposited  them  in  his 
birchen  vessel.  He  now  turned  to  go  back  to  camp, 
satisfied  with  what  he  had  obtained.     He  had  the  rice 


■  t 


A  GRAND   8UNDAT  DINNER. 


168 


to  give  consistency  to  his  soup,  and  the  leek-ioots  to 
flavor  it  with.    That  would  be  enough. 

As  he  was  walking  over  a  piece  of  boggy  ground 
his  eye  was  attracted  to  a  singular  plant,  whose  tall 
stem  rose  high  above  the  grass.  It  was  full  eight  feet 
in  height,  and  at  its  top  there  was  an  umbel  of  con* 
spicuous  white  flowers.  Its  leaves  were  large,  lobedj 
and  toothed,  and  the  stem  itself  was  over  an  inch  in 
dial  leter,  with  furrows  running  longitudinally.  Lucien 
had  never  seen  the  plant  before,  although  he  had  often 
heard  accounts  of  it,  and  he  at  once  recognized  it  from 
its  botanical  description.  It  was  the  celebrated  "  cow 
parsnip"  (Jferacleum  kmaturn).  Its  stem  wa»  jointed 
and  hollow,  and  Lucien  had  heard  that  the  Indians 
called  it  in  their  language  "  flute-stem,"  as  they  dflen 
used  it  to  make  their  rude  musical  instruments  from, 
and  also  a  sort  of  whistle  or  "  call,"  by  which  they  were 
enabled  to  imitate  and  decoy  several  kinds  of  deer. 
But  there  was  another  use  to  which  the  plant  was  put, 
of  which  the  naturalist  was  not  aware.  Norman,  who 
had  been  wandering  about,  came  up  at  this  moment, 
and  seeing  Luci"*"  standing  by  the  plant,  uttered  a 
joyful  "Hulloh!" 

"Well,"  inquired  Lucien,  "  what  pleases  you,co«?** 

"Why,  the  flute-stem,  of  course.  You  talked  of 
making  a  soup.    It  will  help  you,  I  fancy." 

"  How  ?  **  demanded  Lucien. 

*'  Why,  the  young  stems  are  good  eating,  and  the 
toots,  if  you  will ;  but  the  young  shoots  arc  better. 
Both  Indians  and  voyageurs  eat  them  in  soup,  and  are 
fond  of  them.     It's  a  famous  thing,  I  assure  you." 

**  Let  us  gather  some,  then,"  said  Lucien ;  and 


164 


A   GRAND    SUNDAT   DINNER. 


the  cousins  commeneed  cutting  off  such  stoma  as 
were  still  young  and  tender.  As  soon  as  they  had 
obtained  enough,  they  took  their  way  back  to  the 
camp.  Basil  had  already  arrived  with  a  fine  prairie 
hen  ( Tetra4)  cupido)  which  he  had  shot,  and  Sa^idy 
had  brought  back  a  squirrel ;  so  that,  with  Fran9ois' 
fish,  of  which  a  sufficient  number  had  been  caught, 
Lucien  was  likely  to  be  able  to  keep  his  promise 
about  the  dinner. 

Fran9oi8,  however,  could  not  yet  comprehend  how 
the  soup  was  to  be  boiled  in  a  wooden  pot ;  and,  in- 
deed, Basil  was  unable  to  guess.  Norman,  however, 
knew  well  enough,  for  he  had  travelled  through  the 
country  of  the  Assinoboil  Indians,  who  take  their 
name  from  this  very  thing.  He  had  also  witnessed 
the  operation  performed  by  Crees,  Chippewas,  and 
even  voyageurs,  where  metal  or  earthen  pots  could 
not  be  obtained. 

On  the  next  day  the  mystery  was  cleared  up  to 
Basil  and  Fran9ois.  Lucien  first  collected  a  number 
of  stones  —  about  as  large  as  paving-stones.  He  chose 
such  as  were  hard  and  smooth.  'r'*'?se  he  flung  into 
the  cinders,  where  they  soon  became  red-hot.  The 
water  and  meat  were  now  put  into  the  bark  pot,  and 
then,  one  stone  after  another,  —  each  being  taken  out 
as  it  got  cooled,  —  until  the  water  came  to  a  fierce 
boil.  The  rice  and  other  ingredients  were  added  at 
the  proper  time,  and  in  a  short  while  an  excellent  soup 
was  made.  So  much,  then,  for  the  soup,  and-  the 
boiled  dishes  with  vegetables.  The  roast,  of  course, 
was  easily  made  ready  upon  green-wood  spits,  and  the 
**  game  "  was  oc^3ked  in  a  similar  way.    The  fish  were 


A    GRAND    SUNDAY    DINNER. 


16d 


trolled  upuii  the  red  cinders,  and  eaten,  as  is  usual, 
after  the  soup.  There  were  no  puddings  or  pies, 
though,  no  doubt,  Lucien  could  have  made  such  had 
they  been  wanted.  In  their  place  there  was  an  ex- 
cellent service  of  fruit.  There  were  strawberries  and 
raspberries,  one  sort  of  which,  found  wild  in  thia 
region,  b  of  a  most  delicious  flavor.  There  were 
gooseberries  and  currants ;  but  the  most  delicious 
fruit,  and  that  which  Fran9ois  liked  best,  was  a  small 
beny  of  a  dark  blue  color,  not  unlike  the  hucklebeiTy, 
but  much  sweeter  and  of  higher  flavor.  It  grows  on 
a  low  bush  or  shrub  with  ovate  leaves  ;  and  this  busb 
when  it  blossoms  is  so  covered  with  beautiful  white 
Dowers,  that  neither  leaves  nor  branches  ean  be  seen. 
There  are  no  less  than  four  varieties  of  it  known,  two 
of  which  attain  to  the  height  of  twenty  feet  or  more. 
The  French  Canadians  call  it  "  le  poire,"  but  in  most 
parts  of  America  it  is  known  as  the  *'  service-berry," 
although  several  other  names  are  given  to  it  in  dif- 
ferent districts.  Lucien  informed  his  companions, 
while  they  were  crushing  its  sweet,  purplish  fruit 
between  their  teeth,  that  its  botanical  name  is  Ame» 
lanchier. 

"  Now,"  remarked  Fran9ois,  "  if  we  only  had  a  cup 
of  co£fee  and  a  glass  of  wine,  we  might  say  that  we 
had  dined  in  fashionable  style." 

"  I  think,"  replied  Lucien,  "  we  are  better  without 
the  wine,  and  as  for  the  other,  I  cannot  give  you  that, 
but  I  fancy  I  can  provide  you  with  a  cup  of  tea,  if 
you  only  allow  me  a  little  time." 

"  Tea  I "  screamed  Fran9ois ;  "  why,  there's  not  a 
l6af  of  tea  nearer  than  China ;  and  for  the  sugar,  not 
a  grain  within  hundreds  of  miles  I " 


166 


A    GRAND    SUNDAY    DINKBB. 


"  Come,  Frank,"  said  Lucien,  '<  nature  has  not  been 
BO  ungenerous  here,  —  even  in  such  luxuries  as  tea 
and  sugar.  Look  yonder  I  You  see  those  large  treei 
with  the  dnrk-colored  trunks.     What  are  they  ?  " 

"  Sugar-maples,"  replied  Fran9ois. 

*"  Well,"  said  Lucien,  « I  think  even  at  this  lat« 
season  we  might  contrive  to  extract  sap  enough  from 
them  to  sweeten  a  cup  of  tea.  You  may  try,  while  1 
go  in  search  of  the  tea-plant." 

**  Upon  my  word,  Luce,  you  are  equal  to  a  whole- 
sale grocery.  Very  well.  Gome,  Basil,  we'll  tap  the 
maples ;  let  the  captain  go  with  Luce." 

The  boys,  separating  into  pairs,  walked  off  in  dif- 
ferent  directions.  Lucien  and  his  companion  soon 
lighted  upon  the  object  of  their  search  in  the  same 
wet  bottom  where  they  had  pi'ocured  the  Heritcleum, 
It  was  a  branching  shrub,  not  over  two  feet  in  height, 
with  small  leaves  of  a  deep  green  color  above,  but 
whitish  and  woolly  underneath.  It  is  a  plant  well 
known  throughout  most  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  territory 
by  the  name  of  "  Labrador  tea-plant ; "  and  is  so 
called  because  the  Canadian  voyageurs,  and  other 
travellers  through  these  northern  districts,  often  drink 
it  as  tea.  It  is  one  of  the  Ericacea^  or  heath  tribe, 
of  the  genus  Ledum  —  though  it  is  not  a  true  heath, 
as,  strange  to  say,  no  true  heath  is  found  upon  the 
continent  of  America. 

There  are  two  kinds  of  it  known,  —  the  "  narrow- 
leafed  "  and  "  broad-leafed ; "  and  the  former  makes 
the  best  tea.  But  the  pretty  white  flowers  of  the 
plant  are  better  for  the  purpose  than  the  leaves  of 
either  variety ;  and  these  it  was  that  were  now  gatb» 


A   ORA    D    SUNDAY    DINNER. 


107 


ered  by  Lucien  and  Norman.  They  require  to  be 
dried  before  the  decoction  is  made ;  but  thin  can  be 
done  in  a  short  time  over  a  fire ;  and  so  in  a  short 
time  it  was  done,  Norman  having  parched  them  upon 
heated  stones.  Meanwhile  Basil  and  Fran9ois  had 
obtained  the  sugar-water,  and  Lucien  having  waehed 
his  soup-kettle  clean,  and  once  more  made  his  boiling 
stones  red-hot,  prepared  the  beverage;  and  then  it 
was  served  out  in  the  tin  cup,  and  all  partook  of  it. 
Norman  had  drank  the  Labrador  tea  before,  and  was 
rather  fond  of  it,  but  his  Southern  cousins  did  not 
much  relish  it.  Its  peculiar  flavor,  which  somewhat 
resembles  rhubarb,  was  not  at  all  to  the  liking  of 
Fran9ois.  All,  however,  admitted  that  it  produced  a 
cheering  effect  upon  the^r  spirits ;  and,  after  drink> 
ing  it,  they  felt  in  that  peculiarly  luippy  stnte  of 
mind  which  one  experiences  after  a  cup  of  tKe  real 
xBobea." 


^i; 


148 


THE   MARMOTS   OF   AMERIOA. 


CHAPTER   XVn. 


THE  MARMOTS  OF  AMERICA. 


From  such  a  luxurious  dinner  you  may  Buppo«e 
Ibat  our  young  voyageurs  Ijlved  in  prime  style.  But 
it  was  not  always  so.  They  had  their  fasts  as  well  aa 
feasts.  Sopietimes  for  days  they  had  nothing  to  eat 
but  the  jerked  deer-meat.  No  bread  —  no  beer  — 
no  coffee,  nothing  but  water  —  dry  venison  and  water. 
Of  course,  this  is  food  enough  for  a  hungry  man ;  but 
it  can  hardly  be  called  luxurious  living.  Now  and 
then  a  wild  duck  or  a  goose,  or  perhaps  a  young 
swan,  was  shot;  and  this  change  in  their  diet  was 
very  agreeable.  Fish  were  caught  only  upon  occar 
eions,  for  often  these  capricious  creatures  refused 
Fran9ois*  bait,  however  temptingly  offered.  After 
three  weeks'  coasting  the  Lake,  they  reached  the  Sas- 
katchewan, and  turning  up  that  stream,  now  travelled 
in  a  due  westerly  direction.  At  the  Grand  Rapids, 
near  the  mouth  of  this  river,  they  were  obliged  to 
make  a  portage  of  no  less  than  three  miles,  but  the 
magnificent  view  of  these  "  Rapids  "  fully  repaid  them 
for  the  toil  they  underwent  in  passing  them. 

The  Saskatchewan  is  one  of  the  largest  rivers  in 
America,  being  full  1600  miles  in  length  from  its 
source  ^'  the  Rocky  Mountains  to  its  debouchure,  un- 
ti^r  the  name  of  the  "Nelson  River,"  in  Hudson'^ 


THE   MARMOlS   OF   AlIEEICA. 


169 


J  to 

the 


in 
litB 

In- 


Bay.  For  some  distance  above  Lake  Winnipeg,  the 
(Sountrj  upon  its  banks  is  well  wooded.  Farther  up, 
the  river  runs  through  dry  sandy  prairies  that  extend 
westward  to  the  foot-hills  of  the  Rocky  Mountains. 
Many  of  these  prairies  may  be  properly  called  "  des- 
erts."  They  contain  lakes  as  salt  as  the  ocean  itself, 
and  vast  tracts  —  hundreds  of  square  miles  in  extent 
—  where  not  a  drop  of  water  is  to  be  met  with.  But 
the  route  of  our  voyageurs  did  not  lie  over  these 
prairies.  It  was  their  intention,  after  reaching  Cum- 
berland  House,  to  turn  again  in  a  northerly  direction. 
One  evening,  when  within  two  days'  journey  of  the 
Fort,  they  had  encamped  upon  the  bank  of  the  Sas- 
katchewan. They  had  chosen  a  beautiful  spot  for 
their  camp,  where  the  country,  swelling  into  rounded 
hills,  was  prettily  interspersed  with  bushy  copses  of 
Amelanchterg,  and  JRosa  blanda  whose  paie  red  flowers 
were  conspicuous  among  the  green  leaves,  and  filled 
the  air  with  a  sweet  fragrance,  that  was  wafted  to  our 
voyageurs  iipon  the  sunny  breeze.  The  ground  was 
covered  with  a  grassy  sward,  enamelled  by  the  pink 
flowers  of  the  Cfleome,  and  the  deeper  red  blossoms 
of  the  beautiful  wind-flower  (Anemone).  Upon  that 
day  our  travellers  had  not  succeeded  in  killing  any 
game,  and  their  dinner  was  likely  to  consist  of  noth- 
ing better  than  dry  venison  scorched  over  the  coals. 
As  they  had  been  travelling  all  the  morning  against  a 
sharp  current,  and,  of  course,  had  taken  turn  about 
at  the  paddles,  they  all  felt  fatigued,  and  none  of  them 
was  inclined  to  go  in  search  of  game.  They  had 
flung  themselves  down  around  the  fire,  and  were 
waiting  until  the  venison  should  be  broiled  for  dinner. 


/    K 


;  I 

r 


170 


THE   MABMOTS    OF   AMERICA. 


I  ' 


The  camp  had  been  placed  at  the  foot  of  a  toleniblij 
steep  hill,  that  rose  near  the  banks  of  th()  river 
There  was  another  and  higlier  hill  facing  it,  the  whole 
front  of  which  could  be  seen  by  our  travellers  as  thej 
sat  around  their  iire.  While  glancing  thtir  eyea 
along  its  declivity,  they  noticed  a  number  of  small 
protuberances  or  mounds  standing  within  a  few  feet 
©f  each  other.  Each  of  then  was  about  a  foot  in 
height,  and  of  the  form  of  a  truncated  cone  —  that  is, 
a  cone  with  its  top  cut  off,  or  beaten  down. 

"What  are  they?"  inquired  Fran9ois. 

"  I  fancy,"  answered  Lucien,  "  they  are  marmot- 
houses." 

"  They  are,"  aflBrraed  Norman ;  "  there  are  plenty 
of  them  in  this  country." 

"  O,  marmots  I "  said  Fran9oi8.     "  Prairie  dogs,  you 
■the    same  we  met  with    on  the   southern 


mean 


9" 


prairies 

"I  think  not,"  replied  Norman  :  "  I  think  the  prai- 
rie-dogs are  a  different  sort.  Are  they  not,  cousin 
Luce?" 

**  Yes,  yes,"  answered  the  naturalist ;  "  these  must 
be  a  different  species.  There  are  too  few  of  them  to 
be  the  houses  of  prairie-dogs.  The  'dogs'  live  in 
large  settlements,  many  hundreds  of  them  in  one 
place ;  besides,  their  domes  are  somewhat  different  in 
appearance  from  these.  The  mounds  of  the  prairie- 
dcs^a  Lave  a  hole  in  the  top  or  on  one  side  These, 
vou  see,  have  not.  The  hole  is  in  the  ground  beside 
them,  and  the  hill  is  in  front,  made  by  the  earth  taken 
out  of  the  burrow,  just  as  you  have  seen  it  at  the  en- 
trance of  a  rat's  hole.    They  are  marmots,  I  have  n« 


J 


TH£   MARMOTS    OF   AMERICA. 


171 


doubt,  buL  of  a  different  species  from  the  prairie-dog 
marmots." 

^  Are  there  not  many  kinds  of  marmota  in  Amei^ 
ica?    1  have  heard  so,"  said  Fran9ois. 

This  question  was  of  course  addressed  to  he  jien. 

"  Yes,"  answered  he.  "  The  fauna  of  North 
America  is  peculiarly  rich  in  specie.^  of  these  singular 
animals.  There  are  thirteen  kinds  of  them,  well 
known  to  naturalists;  and  the^o  are  even  some  va« 
rieties  in  these  thirteen  kinds  that  might  almost  be 
considered  distinct  species.  I  have  no  doubt,  more- 
over, there  are  yet  other  species  which  have  not  been 
described.  Perhaps,  altogether,  there  are  not  less 
than  twenty  different  kinds  of  marmots  in  North 
America.  As  only  one  or  two  species  are  found  in 
the  settled  territories  of  the  United  States,  it  was 
supposed,  until  lately,  that  there  were  no  others. 
Latterly  the  naturalists  of  North  America  have  been 
very  active  in  their  researches,  and  no  genus  of  ani- 
mals has  rewarded  them  so  well  as  the  marmots  — 
unless,  perhaps,  it  may  be  the  squirrels.  Almost  every 
year  a  new  species  of  one  or  the  other  of  hes<j  has 
been  found  —  mostly  inhabiting  the  vast  ^/ilderness 
territories  that  lie  between  the  Mississippi  and  the 
Pacitic  Ocean. 

"  As  regards  the  marmots,  the  closet-naturalistic  aa 
usual,  have  rendered  their  history  as  complicated  and 
difficult  to  be  understood  as  possible.  They  have 
divided  them  into  several  genera,  because  one  kind 
happens  to  have  a  larger  tubercle  upon  its  tooth  than 
another,  or  a  little  more  curving  in  its  claws,  or  a 
ehorter  tail,     it  is  true  that  in  the   thirteen  speuiei 


172 


THE   MARMOTS    OP   AMERICA. 


some  differ  considerably  from  the  others  in  sizo,  c»)lor 
and  other  respects.  Yet,  for  all  that,  there  is  such  an 
identity,  if  I  may  so  express  it,  about  the  mode  of 
life,  the  food,  the  appearance,  and  habits  of  all  the 
thirteen,  that  I  think  it  is  both  absurd  and  ill-judged 
to  render  the  study  of  them  more  difficult,  by  thus 
dividing  them  into  so  many  genera.  They  are  all 
marmots,  that  is  what  they  are ;  and  why  confound 
the  study  of  them  by  calling  them  spermophiles  and 
arctomys,  and  such-like  hard  names  ?  " 

"  I  quite  agree  with  you,  Luce,"  said  the  hunter, 
Basil,  who,  altho'igh  not  averse  to  the  study  of  natu- 
ral history  (all  hunters,  I  believe,  love  it  more  oi 
less),  hud  no  great  opinion  of  the  closet-naturalists 
and  "babblerfl  about  teeth,"  as  he  contemptuously 
called  them. 

"  When  a  family  of  animals,"  continued  Lucien, 
"  contains  a  great  many  species,  and  these  species  dif- 
fer widely  from  each  other,  I  admit  that  it  may  then 
be  convenient  and  uieful  to  class  them  into  genera, 
and  sometimes  even  I'ub-genera;  but,  on  the  other 
hand,  when  there  are  only  a  few  species,  and  these 
closely  allied  to  each  other,  I  think  nothing  can  be 
more  ridiculous  than  this  dividing  and  subdividitig, 
and  giving  such  unpronounceable  names  to  them.  Tt 
is  this  that  renders  the  study  difficult,  because  even 
the  committing  to  memory  such  a  stri.ig  of  unmeaning 
phrases  is  of  itself  no  easy  task.  Take,  for  example, 
Buch  a  phrase  as  ^Arctomys  spervwphilus  Richard- 
sonii,'  which,  although  nearly  a  yard  long,  means  sim* 
ply  the  'tawny  roaimot.'     Do  not  mistake  me,"  oon« 


t^ 


iaE   MABMOTS    OF  AMERICA. 


17^ 


tinatii  Liicien ;  "  I  do  not  object  to  the  use  ot  the 
Greek  or  Latin  phraseology  used  in  such  cases. 
Some  universal  language  must  be  adopted,  so  that  the 
naturalists  of  different  countries  may  understand  each 
other.  But  then  this  language  should,  when  trans* 
lated,  describe  the  animal,  by  giving  seme  of  its  char- 
acteristics, and  thus  have  a  meaning.  On  the  con- 
trary, it  usually,  when  put  into  plain  English,  gives 
us  only  the  name  —  often  a  clumsy  and  unpronounce- 
able German  one  —  of  some  obscure  friend  of  the 
author,  or,  as  is  not  unfrequently  the  case,  some  lordly 
pH'.  on,  for  whom  your  closet-naturalist  entertains  a 
huiikeyish  regard,  and  avails  himself  of  this  means 
of  making  it  known  to  his  Majcenas.  In  my  opinion," 
continued  Lucien,  warming  with  the  enthusiasm  of  a 
true  naturalist,  "  it  is  a  most  impertinent  interference 
with  the  beautiful  things  of  Nature  -  -  her  birds  and 
quadrupeds,  her  plants  and  flowers  —  to  couple  them 
with  the  names  of  kings,  princes,  lords,  and  lordlings, 
who  chance  to  be  the  local  gods  of  some  closet* 
naturalist.  It  is  these  catalogue-makers  who  gen- 
fvally  multiply  synonymes  so  as  to  render  science 
unintelligible.  Sitting  in  their  easy-chairs  they  know 
little  or  nothing  of  the  habits  of  the  animals  about 
which  they  write  ;  and  therefore,  to  wi'ite  something 
original,  they  multiply  names,  and  give  measuremeuta 
ad  ifijimtum,  and  this  among  them  constitutes  a  sci- 
ence. I  do  not,  of  course,  include  among  these  the 
man  whose  name  is  given  —  Richardson.  No ;  he 
was  a  true  naturalist,  who  travelled  and  underwent 
hardships  to  eai'n  the  high  name  which  he  bears  an*' 
io  well  deserves." 


Ii 


M 

I         r  •■ 


'■'  K  . 


174 


THE   MA.RUOTS    OF  AMERICA. 


"Brother  Luce,"  said  Basil,  "you  grow  ex;ited 
upon  this  subject,  and  that  is  something  of  a  rarity  to 
see.  I  agree  with  you,  however,  in  all  you  hf.ve  said» 
Previous  to  our  leaving  home  I  read  severe  1  books 
upon  natural  history.  They  were  the  works  of  dis- 
tinguished  closet-naturalists.  Well,  I  found  that  all 
the  information  they  contained  about  the  animals  of 
these  nortnern  regions — at  least,  all  that  could  be  called 
information  —  I  had  read  somewhere  before.  After 
thinkmg  for  %  while  I  recollected  where.  It  was  in  the 
pages  of  the  traveller  Heame  —  a  man  who,  among 
rhese  scientific  gentlemen,  is  considered  only  in  the 
light  of  a  rude  traveller,  and  not  deserving  the  name 
of  naturalist.  Heame  journeyed  to  the  Arctic  Sea 
fio  early  as  the  year  1771 ;  and  to  him  the  world  is 
indebted  for  their  first  knowledge  of  the  fact  that 
there  was  no  strait  across  the  continent  south  of  the 
seventieth  parallel  of  latitude." 

"  Yes,"  said  Lucien,  "  he  was  sent  out  by  the  Hud- 
son's Bay  Company,  perhaps  more  scantily  furnished 
than  any  explorer  ever  was  before.  He  underwent 
the  most  dreadful  hardships  and  perils,  and  has  left 
behind  him  an  account  of  the  inhabitants  and  natural 
history  of  these  parts,  so  full  and  so  truthful,  that  it 
has  not  only  stood  the  test  of  subsequent  observation, 
but  the  closet-naturalists  have  added  but  little  to  it 
ever  since.  Most  of  them  have  been  satisfied  with 
giving  just  what  poor  Heame  had  gathered  —  as,  in 
fact,  they  knew  nothing  more,  and  could  not,  there- 
fore, add  any  thing.  Some  of  tLsm  have  quoted  his 
own  words,  and  given  him  the  credit  of  his  vas'-  labor  j 
whild  others  have  endeavored  to  pass  ofif  Fjame'i 


TSE    MARMOTS    OF   AMERICA. 


17a 


knowledge  as  their  own,  by  giving  a  slightly  altered 
paraphrase  of  his  language.  This  sort  of  thing,"  said 
Lucien,  "  makes  me  indignant." 

"  It's  downright  mean,"  interposed  Norman.  "  All 
of  us  in  this  country  have  heard  of  Hearae.  He  waa 
a  right  hardy  traveller,  and  no  mistake  about  it." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  Lucien,  cooling  down,  and  re- 
suming the  subject  of  the  marmots,  "  these  little  animals 
seem  to  form  a  link  between  the  squirrels  and  rabbits. 
On  the  side  of  the  squirrels  they  very  naturally  join 
^ik,  if  I  may  use  the  expression,  to  the  ground- 
squirrel,  and  some  of  them  differ  but  little  in  their 
habits  froD^  many  of  the  latter.  Other  species,  again, 
are  more  allied  to  the  rabbits,  and  less  like  the  squir- 
n'iS;  and  there  are  two  or  three  kinds  that  I 
should  say  —  using  a  Yankee  expression  —  have  a 
'sprinkling'  of  the  rat  in  them.  Some,  as  the 
ground-hog,  or  wood-chuck  of  the  United  States, 
are  as  large  as  rabbits,  while  others,  as  the  leopard- 
marmot,  are  not  bigger  than  Norway  rata.  Some 
species  have  cheek-pouches,  in  which  they  can  carry 
a  large  quantity  of  seeds,  nuts,  and  roots,  when  they 
wish  to  hoard  them  up  for  future  use.  These  are  the 
spermophiles,  and  some  species  of  these  have  more 
capacious  pouches  than  otliers.  Their  food  diSers 
somewhat,  perhaps  according  to  the  circumstances  in 
which  they  may  be  placed.  In  all  cases  it  is  vege- 
table. Some,  as  the  prairie-dogs,  live  upon  grasses, 
while  others  subsist  chiefly  upon  seeds,  berries,  and 
leaves.  It  was  long  supposed  that  the  marmots,  like 
the  squirrf^ls,  laid  up  stores  against  the  winter.  I  be- 
lieve this  is  not  the  case  with  any  of  tlie  different 


176 


THE   MABMOTS    OF   AMERICA. 


r  ■ 


<3    ■; 
ft 


:  I 


rs  -■<  ' 


l! 


ipeci^s.  1  know  for  certain  that  many  of  them  pas* 
tlie  wintei  in  a  state  of  torpidity,  and  of  course  require 
no  provisions,  as  they  eat  nothing  during  that  seasoa 
In  this  we  observe  one  of  those  cases  in  which  Nature 
BO  beautifully  adnpts  a  creature  to  its  circumstances. 
In  the  countries  where  many  of  the  marmots  are 
foucd,  so  severe  are  the  winters,  and  so  barren  the 
eoil,  that  it  would  be  impossible  for  these  creatures  to 
get  a  morsel  of  food  for  many  long  months.  During 
this  period,  therefore,  Nature  suspends  her  functions,  by 
putting  them  into  a  deep,  and,  for  aught  we  know  to 
the  contrary,  a  pleasant  sleep.  It  is  only  when  the 
snow  melts,  under  the  vernal  sun,  and  the  green  blades 
of  grass  and  the  spring  flowers  array  themselves  oa 
the  surface  of  the  earth,  that  the  little  marmots  make 
their  appearance  again.  Then  the  warm  air,  penetrating 
into  their  subterranean  abodes,  admonishes  them  to 
awake  from  their  protracted  slumber,  and  come  forth 
to  the  enjoyment  of  their  summer  life.  These  animals 
may  be  said,  therefore,  to  have  no  winter.  Their  life 
is  altogether  t\  season  of  summer  and  sunshine. 

"Some  of  tie  marmots,"  continued  Lucien,  "  live 
in  large  communities,  as  the  prairie-dogs ;  others  in 
smaller  tribes,  while  still  other  species  lead  a  solitary 
life,  going  only  in  pairs,  or  at  most  in  families. 
Nearly  all  of  them  are  burrowing  animals,  though 
there  are  one  or  two  species  that  are  satisfied  with 
a  cleft  in  the  rock,  or  a  hole  among  loose  stones  for 
their  nests.  Some  of  them  are  tree-climbers,  but  it 
is  supposed  they  only  ascend  trees  in  search  of  food, 
as  they  do  not  make  their  dwellings  there.  Many  of 
ihe  species  are  very  prolific,  the  females  bringing  fortM 
eight,  and  even  ten  young  at  a  birth. 


-1. :' 


THE  MARMOTS   OF  AMERICA. 


■'f 


177 


•*  TLe  niarraots  are  extremely  shy  and  watchfli] 
creatures.  Before  going  to  feed  they  usually  recon- 
noitre the  ground  from  the  tops  of  theii;  little  mounds. 
Some  species  do  not  have  such  mounds,  and  for  this 
purpose  ascend  any  little  hillock  that  may  be  near. 
Nearly  all  have  the  curious  habit  of  placing  sentrie« 
to  watch  while  the  rest  are  feeding.  These  sentriea 
station  themselves  on  some  commanding  point,  and 
when  they  see  an  enemy  approaching  give  warnirg  to 
the  others  by  a  peculiar  cry.  In  several  of  the  species 
this  cry  resembles  the  syllables  '  seek-seek '  repeated 
with  a  hiss.  Others  bark  like  *  toy-dogs,'  while  still 
other  kinds  utter  a  whistling  noise,  from  which  one 
species  derives  its  trivial  name  of '  whistler  *  among  the 
traders,  and  is  the  '  siffleur  *  of  the  Canadian  voyageurs. 

"  The  '  whistler's '  call  of  alarm  can  be  heard  at 
a  great  distance ;  and  when  uttered  by  the  sentinel  is 
repeated  by  all  the  others  as  far  as  the  troop  extends. 

"  The  marmots  are  eaten  both  by  Indians  and  white 
hunters-  Sometimes  they  are  captured  by  pouring 
water  into  their  burrows  ;  but  this  method  only  suc- 
ceeds in  early  spring,  when  the  animals  awake  out  of 
their  torpid  state,  and  the  ground  is  still  frozen  hard 
enough  to  prevent  the  water  from  filtering  away. 
They  are  sometimes  shot  with  guns  ;  but,  unless  killed 
upon  the  spot,  they  will  escape  to  their  burrows,  and 
tumble  in  before  the  hunter  can  lay  his  hands  upon 
them  " 


mam 


tl 


/ 


.1 


178 


THE   BLAIREAU,  THE  '*  TAWNIES. 


'  CHAPTER  XVHL 

TUB  BLAIBEAU,  THE  « TAWNIES,"  AMD  THB 
"LEOPARDS." 

Perhaps  Lucien  would  have  carried  bis  account 
of  the  marmots  still  farther — for  he  had  not  told  half 
what  he  knew  of  their  habits  —  but  he  was  at  that 
moment  interrupted  by  the  marmots  themselves. 
Several  of  them  appeared  at  the  mouths  of  their  holes ; 
and,  after  looking  out  and  reconnoitring  for  some 
moments,  became  bolder,  and  ran  up  to  the  tops  of 
their  mounds,  and  began  to  scatter  along  the  little 
beaten  paths  that  led  from  one  to  the  other.  In  a 
short  while  as  many  as  a  dozen  could  be  seen  moving 
ul)out,  jerking  their  tails,  and  at  intervals  uttering 
il'eir  "  seek-seek." 

Our  voyageurs  saw  that  there  were  two  kinds  of 
them,  entirely  different  in  color,  size,  and  other  re- 
spects. The  larger  ones  were  of  a  grayish  yellow 
above,  with  an  orange  tint  upon  the  throat  and  belly. 
Tlicse  were  the  "  tawny  marmots,"  called  sometimes 
"ground-squirrels,"  and  by  the  voyageurs,  " siflOieurs,'* 
or  "  whistlers."  The  other  species  seen  were  the 
most  beautiful  of  all  the  marmots.  They  were  very 
little  smaller  than  the  tawny  marmots  ;  but  their  tails 
were  larger  and  more  slender,  which  rendered  thei* 
appearance  more  graceful.    Their  chief  beauty,  how 


AND   THE   '•LEOPARDS.'* 


179 


i 


•T«r,  lay  in  their  colors  and  markings.  They  rvcre 
striped  from  the  nose  to  the  rump  with  bands  of  yel 
low  and  chocolato  color,  which  alternated  with  each 
other,  while  the  <hocolate  bands  were  themselves 
variegated  by  rows  of  yellow  spots  regularly  placetL 
These  markings  gave  the  animals  that  peculiar  appear- 
ance so  well  known  as  characterizing  the  skin  of  the 
leopard,  hence  the  name  of  these  little  creatures  was 
"leopard  marmots." 

It  was  plain  from  their  actions  that  both  kinds  were 
**  at  home "  among  the  mounds,  and  that  both  had 
their  burrows  there.  This  was  the  fact,  and  Norman 
told  his  companion  that  the  two  kinds  are  always 
found  together,  not  living  in  the  same  houses,  but  only 
as  neighbors  in  the  same  "  settlement."  The  burrows 
of  the  "  leopard  "  have  much  smaller  entrances  than 
those  of  their  "  tawny  kin,"  and  run  down  perpen- 
dicularly to  a  greater  depth  before  branching  off  in  a 
horizontal  direction.  A  straight  stick  may  be  thrust 
down  one  of  these  full  five  feet  before  reaching  an 
*'  elbow."  The  holes  of  the  tawny  marmots,  on  the 
contrary,  branch  oflF  near  the  surface,  and  are  not  so 
deep  under  ground.  This  guides  us  to  the  ex- 
planation of  a  singular  fact  —  which  is,  that  the 
*'  tawnies "  make  their  appearance  three  weeks 
earlier  in  spring  than  the  "  leopards,"  in  con3equenca 
of  the  heat  of  the  sun  reaching  them  sooner,  and  wak- 
ing them  out  of  their  torpid  sleep. 

While  these  explanations  were  passing  among  the 
boys,  the  marmots  had  come  out,  to  the  number  of  a 
score,  and  were  carrying  on  their  gambols  along  the 
«leclivity  of  the  hill.     They  were  at  too  great  a  distancvd 


im 


1 1 


180 


THif  BLAIR£AU,   THE  "XAWNIES/ 


to  heed  the  luovementd  of  the  travellers  by  the  {amp 
fire.  Besides,  a  considerable  valley  lay  between  them 
and  the  camp,  which,  as  they  believed,  rendered  their 
position  secure.  They  were  not  at  such  a  distance  but 
that  many  of  their  movements  could  be  clearly  made 
out  by  the  boys,  who  after  a  while  noticed  that  several 
furious  battles  were  being  fought  among  them.  It 
was  not  the  "tawnies"  against  the  others,  but  the 
males  of  each  kind  in  single  combats  with  one  another. 
They  fought  like  little  cats,  exhibiting  the  highest 
degree  of  boldness  and  fury ;  but  it  was  noticed  that 
in  these  conflicts  the  leopards  were  far  more  active  and 
spiteful  than  their  kinsmen.  In  observing  them  through 
his  glass  Lucien  noticed  that  they  frequently  seized 
each  other  by  the  tails,  and  he  further  noticed  that 
t^everal  of  them  had  their  tails  much  shorter  than  the 
rest.  Norman  said  that  these  had  been  bitten  off  in 
their  battles ;  and,  moreover,  that  it  was  a  rare  thing 
to  find  among  the  males,  or  "bucks,"  as  he  called 
them,  one  that  had  a  perfect  tail ! 

While  these  observations  were  being  mad<',  the 
attention  of  our  party  was  attracted  to  a  strange 
animal  that  was  seen  slowly  crawling  around  the  hilh 
It  was  a  creature  about  as  big  as  an  ordinary  setter 
dog,  but  much  thicker  in  the  body,  shorter  in  the  legs, 
and  shaggier  in  the  coat.  Its  head  was  flat,  and  ita 
ears  short  and  rounded.  Its  hair  was  long,  rough,  and 
of  a  mottled  hoary  gray  color,  but  dark-brown  upon 
the  legs  and  tail.  Tlie  latter,  though  covered  with 
long  hair,  was  short,  and  carried  upright;  and  upon 
the  broad  feet  of  the  animal  could  be  seen  long  and 
strong  curving  claws.     Its  snout  was  sharp  as  that  of 


fill 


AND   THE   "LEOPiRDS." 


181 


B  grey  hi  aiii  —  though  not  so  prettily  formed  —  and  a 
white  stripe,  passing  from  its  very  tip  over  the  crown, 
and  bordered  by  two  darker  bands,  gave  a  singular  ex* 
pression  to  the  animal's  countenance.  It  was  altO' 
gethcr,  both  in  form  and  feature,  a  strange  and  vicious- 
looking  creature.  Norman  recognized  it  at  once  as 
the  "  blaireau,"  or  American  badger.  The  others  had 
never  seen  such  a  creature  before  —  as  it  is  not  an 
inhabitant  of  the  South,  nor  of  any  part  of  the  settled 
portion  of  the  United  States,  for  the  animal  there 
sometimes  called  a  badger,  is  the  ground-hog,  or 
Maryland  marmot  (Arctomys  monox).  Indeed,  it  waa 
for  a  long  time  believed  that  no  true  badger  inhabit* 
ed  the  continent  of  America.  Now,  however,  it  is 
known  that  such  exists,  although  it  is  of  a  species  dis* 
tinct  from  the  badger  of  Europe.  It  is  less  in  size 
than  the  latter,  and  its  fur  is  longer,  finer,  and  lighter 
in  color ;  but  it  is  also  more  voracious  in  its  habits, 
preying  constantly  upon  mice,  marmots,  and  other 
small  animals,  and  feeding  upon  carcasses,  whenever 
it  chances  to  meet  with  such.  It  is  an  inhabitant  of 
the  sandy  and  barren  districts,  where  it  burrows  the 
earth  in  such  a  manner  that  horses  frequently  sink 
and  snap  their  legs  in  the  hollow  ground  made  by  it. 
These  are  not  always  the  holes  scraped  out  for  its  own 
residence,  but  the  burrows  of  the  marmots,  which  the 
blaireau  has  enlarged,  so  that  it  may  enter  and  prey 
npoL  thena.  In  this  way  the  creature  obtains  most  of 
its  food,  but  as  the  marmots  lie  torpid  during  the  winter 
months,  and  the  ground  above  them  is  frozen  as  hard 
as  a  rock,  it  is  then  impossible  for  the  blaireau  to  effect 
in  entrance.    At  this  season  it  would  unloubtodly 


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Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14SS0 

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182 


THK   BLAIBEAU,   THE   "  TAWNIES," 


itarve  had  not  Nature  provided  against  such  a  resa1t| 
by  giving  it  the  power  of  sleeping  throughout  the 
winter  months  as  well  as  the  marmots  themselvesj 
which  it  does.  As  soon  as  it  wakes  up  and  comei 
abroad,  it  begins  its  campaign  against  these  little  crea* 
tures ;  and  it  prefers,  above  all  others,  the  '*  tawnies," 
wid  the  beautiful  '^  leopards,"  both  of  which  it  perse* 
cutes  incessantly. 

The  badger  when  first  seen  was  creeping  along  witk 
its  belly  almost  dragging  the  ground,  and  its  long 
snout  projected  horizontally  in  the  direction  of  the 
marmot  ^Willa^e."  It  was  evidently  meditating  a 
surprise  of  the  inhabitants.  Now  and  then  it  would 
stop,  like  a  pointer  dog  when  close  to  a  partridge,  rec 
onnoitre  a  moment,  and  then  go  on  again.  Its  design 
appeared  to  be  to  get  between  the  marmots  and  their 
burrows,  intercept  some  of  them,  imd  get  a  hold  of 
them  without  the  trouble  of  digging  them  up  —  al- 
though that  would  be  no  great  affair  to  it,  for  so  strong 
are  its  fore-arms  and  claws  that  in  loose  soil  it  caa 
make  its  way  under  the  ground  as  fast  as  a  mole. 

Slowly  and  cautiously  it  stole  along,  its  hind-feet 
Testing  all  their  length  upon  the  ground,  its  hideous 
snout  thrown  forward,  and  its  eyes  glaring  with  a  vo- 
racious and  hungry  expression.  It  had  got  within 
fifty  paces  of  the  marmots,  and  would,  no  doubt,  have 
succeeded  in  cutting  off  the  retreat  of  some  of  them ; 
but  at  that  moment  a  burrowing  owl  (Strix  cunicula^ 
Wa),  that  had  been  perched  upon  one  of  the  mounds, 
rose  up  and  commenced  hovering  in  circles  above  the 
intruder.  This  drew  the  attention  of  the  marmot 
leatries  to  their  well-known  enemji  and  their  warning 


/^'  ^ 


"^y?i#>. 


AND  THE  **  LEOrARDS." 


188 


cry  was  followed  by  a  general  scamper  of  both  taw« 
Dies  and  leopards  towards  their  respective  burrows. 

The  blaireau,  seeing  that  further  concealment  was 
no  longer  of  any  uf^e,  raised  himself  higher  upon  his 
limbs,  and  sprang  forward  in  pursuit  He  was  too 
late,  however,  as  the  marmots  had  all  got  into  their 
holes,  and  their  angry  "  seek-seek  "  was  heard  pro- 
ceeding from  various  quarters  out  of  the  bowels  of  the 
earth.  The  blaireau  only  hesitated  long  enough  to 
select  one  of  the  burrows  into  which  he  was  sure  a 
marmot  had  entered  ;  and  then,  setting  himself  to  his 
work,  he  commenced  throwing  out  the  mould  like  a 
terrier.  In  a  few  seconds  he  was  half  buried,  and  hii 
hind-quarters  and  tail  alone  remained  above  ground. 
He  would  soon  have  disappeared  entirely,  but  at  that 
moment  the  boys,  directed  and  headed  by  Norman, 
ran  up  the  hill,  and,  seizing  him  by  the  tail,  endeav- 
ored  to  jerk  him  back.  That,  however,  was  a  task 
which  they  could  not  accomplish ;  for  first  one  and 
then  another,  and  then  Basil  and  Norman — who 
rere  both  strong  boys  —  pulled  with  all  their  might, 
and  could  not  move  him.  Norman  cautioned  them 
against  letting  him  go,  as  in  a  moment's  time  he  would 
burrow  beyond  their  reach.  So  they  held  on  until 
Fran9oi3  had  got  his  gun  ready.  This  the  latter  soon 
did,  and  a  load  of  small  shot  was  fired  into  the  blair> 
eau's  hips,  which,  although  it  did  not  quite  kill  him« 
caused  him  to  back  out  of  the  hole,  and  brought  him 
into  the  clutches  of  Marengo.  A  desperate  struggle 
ensued,  which  ended  by  the  bloodhound  doubling  his 
vast  blajk  muzzle  upon  the  throat  of  the  blaireau,  and 
choking  him  tc  death  in  less  than  a  dozen  neoonds  i 


184 


THE   BLAIREAU,   THE  "  TAWNIES,* 


and  then  his  hide  —  the  only  part  which  was  deemed 
of  any  value —  was  taken  off  and  carried  to  the  camp. 
The  carcass  was  left  upon  the  face  of  the  hiil,  and  the 
red  shining  object  was  soon  espied  by  the  buzzards 
and  turkey  vtiltures,  so  that  in  a  few  minutes'  time 
several  of  these  filthy  birds  were  seen  hovering  around, 
and  alighting  upon  the  hill. 

But  this  was  no  new  sight  to  our  young  voyageurs, 
and  soon  ceased  to  be  noticed  by  them.  Another 
bird,  of  a  different  kind,  for  a  short  time  engaged  their 
attention.  It  was  a  large  hawk,  which  Lucien,  as 
soon  as  he  saw  it,  pronounced  to  be  one  of  the  kind 
known  as  buzzards  (Buteo).  Of  these  there  are  sev- 
eral species  in  North  America,  but  it  is  not  to  be  sup- 
posed that  there  is  any  resemblance  between  them  and 
the  buzzards  just  mentioned  as  having  alighted  by  the 
carcass  of  the  blaireau.  The  latter,  commonly  called 
"  turkey  buzzards,"  are  true  vultures,  and  feed  mostly, 
though  not  exclusively,  on  carrion  ;  while  the  "  hawk 
buzzards  "  have  all  the  appearance  and  general  habita 
of  the  rest  of  the  falcon  tribe. 

The  one  in  question,  Lucien  said,  was  the  "  marsh- 
hawk,"  sometimes  also  called  the  "  hen-harrier" 
{Falco  uUginosus).  Norman  stated  that  it  was  known 
among  the  Indians  of  these  parts  as  the  "  snake-bird,** 
because  it  preys  upon  a  species  of  small  green  snake 
that  is  common  on  the  plains  of  the  Sfishatchewan, 
and  of  which  it  is  fonder  than  of  any  other  food. 

The  voyageurs  were  not  long  in  having  evidence 
of  the  appropriateness  of  the  Indian  appellation ;  foif 
these  people,  like  oi'ier  savages,  have  f»e  good  habit 
di  giving  names  that  express  some  quality  or  charaty 


■ 


AND   THE  "LEOPARDS." 


186 


teiistic  of  the  thing  itself.  The  bird  in  question  was 
on  the  wing,  and  from  its  movements  evidently  search' 
ing  for  game.  It  sailed  in  easy  circlings  near  the 
surface,  quarter  mg  the  ground  like  a  pointer  dog.  It 
flew  so  lightly  that  its  wings  were  not  seen  to  move ; 
and  throughout  all  its  wheelings  and  turnings  it  ap- 
peared to  be  carried  onwards  or  upwards  by  the  power 
of  mere  volition.  Once  or  twice  its  course  brought  it 
directly  over  the  camp,  and  Fran9ois  had  got  hold  of 
his  gun,  with  the  intention  of  bringing  it  down,  but  on 
each  occasion  it  perceived  his  motions ;  and,  soaring 
up  like  a  paper-kite  until  out  of  reach,  it  passed  over 
the  camp,  and  then  sank  down  again  upon  the  other 
side,  and  continued  its  "  quarterings  "  as  before.  For 
nearly  half  an  hour  it  went  on  manoeuvring  in  this 
way,  when  all  at  once  it  was  seen  to  make  a  sudden 
turning  in  the  air  as  it  fixed  its  eyes  upon  some  object 
in  the  grass.  The  next  moment  it  glided  diagonally 
towards  the  earth,  and  poising  itself  for  a  moment 
above  the  surface,  rose  again  with  a  small  green-col- 
ored snake  struggling  in  its  talons.  After  ascending 
to  some  height,  it  directed  its  flight  towards  a  clump 
of  trees,  and  was  soon  lost  to  the  view  of  our  trav- 
ellers. 

Lucien  now  pointed  out  to  his  companions  a  char- 
acteristic of  the  hawk  and  buzzard  tribe,  by  which 
these  birds  can  always  be  distinguished  from  the  true 
falcon.  That  pe  (^uliarity  lay  in  the  manner  of  seizing 
their  prey.  The  former  skim  forward  upon  it  side- 
ways —  that  is,  in  a  horizontal  or  diagonal  direction, 
and  pick  it  up  in  passing ;  while  the  true  falcons  — 
as  the  merlin,  tlie  peregrme,  the  gerfalcon,  ard  the 


186 


THE   BLAIRKAU,   ETC. 


great  eagle  falcons  —  shoot  down  upon  their  prey 
perpendicularly  like  an  arrow,  or  a  piece  of  falling 
lead. 

He  pointed  out,  moreover,  how  the  structure  of  the 
different  kinds  of  preying  birds,  such  as  the  size  and 
form  of  the  wings  and  tail,  as  well  as  other  parts,  were 
in  each  kind  adapted  to  its  peculiar  mode  of  pursu- 
ing its  prey  ;  and  then  there  arose  a  discussion  as  to 
whether  this  adaptation  should  be  considered  a  cause 
or  an  effect.  Lucien  succeeded  in  convincing  hit 
companions  that  the  structure  was  the  effect  and  not 
the  cause  of  the  habit,  for  the  young  naturalist  was  a 
firm  believer  in  the  changing  and  progreMive  systea 
of  nature. 


.\'i 


AT  ODD  SORT   OF  DEGOT-DUCK. 


187 


rey 
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the 
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US9 

hig. 

Dot 

i  a 
ea 


CHAPTER  XIX. 
AN  ODD  SORT  OF  DECOY-DUCK. 

Two  days  after  the  adventure  with  the  blturoMi, 
the  young  voyageurs  arrived  at  Cumberland  House^ 
one  of  the  most  celebrated  posts  of  the  Hudson's  Bay 
Company.  The  chief  factor,  who  resided  there,  was 
a  friend  of  Norman's  father,  and  of  course  the  youths 
were  received  with  the  warmest  hospitality,  and  enter- 
tained during  their  stay  in  the  best  manner  the  place 
afforded.  They  did  not  make  a  long  stay,  however, 
as  they  wished  to  complete  their  journey  before  the 
winter  should  set  in,  when  canoe  travelling  would 
become  impossible.  During  winter,  not  only  the 
lakes,  but  the  most  rapid  rivers  of  these  northern 
regions,  become  frozen  up,  and  remain  so  for  many 
months.  Nearly  the  whole  surface  of  the  earth  is 
buried  under  deep  snow,  and  travelling  can  only  be 
done  with  snow  shoes,  or  with  sledges  drawn  by 
2ogs.  These  are  the  modes  practised  by  the  Indians, 
the  Esquimaux,  and  the  few  white  traders  and  trap- 
pers who  have  occasion  in  winter  to  pass  from  one 
point  to  another  of  that  icy  and  desolate  region. 

Travelling  under  such  circumstances  is  not  only 
difficult  and  laborious,  but  is  extremely  perilous. 
Food  cannot  always  be  obtained  —  supplies  fall  short, 
ir  become  exhausted  —  game  is  scarce,  or  cannot  bf 


^m 


■ 


Ii 


It 


I 

I 


i 


^      .yi^*m"'' 


188 


AN   ODD    SORT    OF   DECOY-DUCK. 


found  at  all,  as  at  that  season  many  of  tbe  quadrupuds 
and  most  of  the  birds  have  forsaken  the  country,  and 
migrated  to  the  South  —  and  whole  parties  of  travel- 
lers —  even  Indians,  who  can  eat  any  thing,  living  or 
\  dead,  roast  or  raw  —  often  perish  from  hunger. 

Our  travellers  were  well  acquainted  wilh  these 
facts  ;  and  being  anxious,  therefore,  to  get  to  tbe  end 
of  their  journey  before  the  winter  should  come  down 
upon  them,  made  all  haste  to  proceed.  Of  course 
they  obtained  a  new  "  outfit "  at  the  Fort ;  but  they 
took  with  them  only  such  articles  as  were  absolutely 
necessary,  as  they  had  many  portages  to  make  before 
they  could  reach  the  waters  of  the  Mackenzie  River 
As  it  required  two  of  the  party  to  carry  the  canoe, 
with  a  few  little  things  besides,  all  the  baggage  was 
comprised  in  such  loads  as  the  others  could  manage ; 
and  of  course  that  was  not  a  great  deal,  for  Fran9oia 
was  but  a  lad,  and  Lucien  was  far  from  being  in 
robust  health.  A  light  axe,  a  few  cooking  utensil^ 
with  a  small  stock  of  provisions,  and  of  course  their 
guns,  formed  the  bulk  of  their  loads. 

After  leaving  the  Fort  they  kept  for  several  days' 
journey  up  the  Saskatchewan.  They  then  took  leave 
of  that  river,  and  ascended  a  small  stream  that  emptied 
into  it  from  the  North.  Making  their  first  portage 
over  a  "divide,"  they  reached  another  small  stream 
thai  ran  in  quite  a  different  direction,  emptying  itself 
into  one  of  the  branches  of  the  Mississippi,  or  Chur- 
chill River.  Following  this  in  a  north-westerly  course, 
and  making  numerous  other  portages,  they  reached 
Lake  La  Crosse,  and  afterwards,  in  succession,  Lakea 
Clear  Buffalo,  and  Methy.    Along  "portage"  from 


▲N   ODU   SORT   OF   DECOT-DUGK. 


189 


tlie  last-mentioned  lake  brought  them  to  the  head  of  a 
Btream  known  as  the  "  Clear  Water ; "  and,  launching 
their  canoe  upon  this,  they  floated  down  to  its  mouth, 
and  entered  the  main  stream  of  the  Elk,  or  Athabasca, 
one  of  the  most  beautiful  rivers  of  America.  They 
were  now  in  reality  upon  the  waters  of  the  Mackenzie 
itself,  for  the  Elk,  after  passing  through  the  Athabas- 
ca Lake,  takes  from  thence  the  name  of  Slave  River 
and  having  traversed  Great  Slave  Lake,  becomes  the 
Mackenzie  —  under  which  name  it  continues  on  to  the 
Arctic  Ocean.  Having  got,  therefore,  upon  the  main 
bead-water  of  the  stream  which  they  intended  to  trav- 
erse, they  floated  along  in  their  canoe  with  light 
hearts  and  high  hopes.  It  i'  true  they  had  yet  fifteen 
hundred  miles  to  travel,  but  they  believed  that  it  was 
all  down-hill  work  now ;  and  as  they  had  still  nearly 
two  months  of  summer  before  them,  they  doubted  not 
being  able  to  accomplish  the  voyage  in  good  time. 

On  they  floated  down  stream,  feasting  their  eyes  as 
they  went  —  for  the  scenery  of  the  Elk  valley  is  of  a 
most  picturesque  and  pleasing  character ;  and  the 
broad  bosom  of  the  stream  itself,  studded  with  wooded 
islands,  looked  to  our  travellers  more  like  a  continua* 
lion  of  lakes  than  a  running  river.  Now  they  glided 
along  without  using  an  oar,  borne  onward  by  the  cur- 
rent; then  they  would  take  a  spell  at  the  paddles, 
while  the  beautiful  Canadian  boat-song  could  be  heard 
as  it  came  from  the  tiny  crafl,  and  the  appropriate 
chorus  "  Row,  brothers,  row !  **  echoed  from  the  ad- 
jacent shores  No  part  of  their  journey  was  more 
pleasant  than  while  descending  the  romantic  Elk. 

They  found  plenty  of  fresh  provisions,  both  in  the 


190 


AN   ODD    SORT   OF   DECOT-DUC&. 


Stream  itself  and  on  its  banks.  Thej  caught  salmon 
in  the  water,  and  the  silver-colored  h/odon,  known 
among  the  voyageurs  by  the  name  of  "  Dor^."  They 
shot  both  ducks  and  geese,  and  roast-duck  or  goose  had 
become  an  every-day  dinner  with  them.  Of  the  geese 
there  were  several  species.  There  were  "  snow-geese,** 
•0  called  from  their  beautiful  white  plumage ;  and 
''laughing  geese,"  that  derive  their  name  from  the 
circumstance  that  their  call  resembles  the  laugh  of  a 
man.  The  Indians  decoy  these  by  striking  their  open 
hand  repeatedly  over  the  mouth  while  uttering  the 
syllable  "  wah."  They  also  saw  the  "  Brent  goose/* 
a  well-known  species,  and  the  "  Canada  goose,"  which 
is  the  wild  goose  par  excellence.  Another  species 
resembling  the  latter,  called  the  ''barnacle  goose," 
W&3  seen  by  our  travellers.  Besides  these,  Lucien 
informed  them  that  there  were  several  other  smaller 
kinds  that  inhabit  the  northern  countries  of  America. 
These  valuable  birds  are  objects  of  great  interest  to 
the  people  of  the  fur  countries  for  months  in  the  year. 
Whole  tribes  of  Indians  look  to  them  as  a  means  of 
support. 

With  regard  to  ducks,  there  was  one  species  which 
our  travellers  had  not  yet  met  with,  and  for  which 
they  were  every  day  upon  the  lookout.  This  was 
the  far-famed  "canvas-back,"  so  justly  celebrated 
among  the  epicures  of  America.  None  of  them  had 
ever  eaten  of  it,  as  it  is  not  known  in  Louisiana,  but 
^nly  upon  the  Atlantic  coast  of  the  United  States. 
Norman,  however,  had  heard  of  its  existence  in  the 
Rocky  Mountains  —  where  it  is  said  to  breed  —  as 
well  as  in  other  parts  of  the  fur  countries,  and  diey 


AS  ODD   SOBT   OF   DKCOT-DDOK. 


191 


wew  ill  hopes  that  they  might  fail  in  with  it  apon  th« 
waters  of  the  Athabasca.  Lucien  was,  of  course,  well 
acquainted  with  its  "biography,"  and  could  have 
recognized  one  at  sight ;  and  as  they  glided  along  ha 
Tolunteered  to  give  his  companions  some  information, 
not  only  about  this  particular  species,  but  about  the 
whole  genus  of  these  interesting  birds. 

'^The  canvas-back,"  began  he,  "is  perhaps  the 
most  celebrated  and  highly-prized  of  all  the  ducki, 
on  account  of  the  exquisite  flavor  of  its  flesh  •  -  which 
is  thought  by  some  epicures  to  be  superior  to  that  of 
all  other  birds.  It  is  not  a  large  duck  -  -rarely 
weighing  over  three  pounds  —  and  its  plumage  is  fat 
from  equalling  in  beauty  that  of  many  other  species. 
It  has  a  red  or  chestnut-colored  head,  a  shining  black 
breast,  while  the  greater  part  of  its  body  is  of  a  gray* 
ish  color;  but  upon  close  examination  this  gray  is 
found  to  be  produced  by  a  whitish  ground  minutely 
mottled  with  zigzag  black  lines.  I  believe  it  is  this 
mottling,  combined  with  the  color,  which  somewhat 
resembles  the  appearance  and  texture  of  ship's  can- 
vas, that  has  given  the  bird  its  trivial  name;  but 
there  is  some  obscurity  about  the  origin  of  this.  In 
color,  however,  it  so  nearly  resembles  the  *  pochard,' 
or  <  red-head,'  of  Europe,  and  its  near  congener  the 
red-head  {A.ferina)^f  America,  that  at  a  distance  A 
is  difficult  to  distinguish  them  from  each  other.  The 
la8t«mentioned  species  is  always  found  associated  with 
the  canvas-backs,  and  are  even  sold  for  the  latter  m 
thfl  markets  of  New  York  and  Philadelphia.  A  nat- 
uraUstj  however,  can  easily  distinguish  them  by  their 
bills  and  eyes.    The  canvas-back  has  red  eyes,  witli 


192 


▲K   ODD   SORT   OF   DECOT-DCGK. 


A  greenish  black  bill,  nearly  stvaight ;  while  the  eyef 
of  the  red-head  are  of  an  orai.ge  yellow,  its  bill  bluish 
and  concave  along  the  upper  ridge. 

"  The  canvas-back  is  known  in  natural  history  as 
Anas  valisnerioj  and  this  specific  name  is  given  to  it 
because  it  feeds  upon  the  roots  of  an  aquatic  plant,  a 
species  of  '  tape-grass,'  or  *  eel-grass,'  but  botanically 
called  <  Valisneria,'  after  the  Italian  botanist,  Antonio 
Valisneri.  This  grass  grows  in  slow-flowing  streams, 
and  also  on  shoals  by  the  sea-side  —  where  the  water, 
from  the  influx  of  rivers,  is  only  brackish.  The  water 
where  it  grows  is  usually  three  to  five  feet  in  depth, 
and  the  plant  itself  rises  above  the  surface  to  the 
height  of  two  feet  or  more,  with  grass-like  leaves  of 
a  deep  green  color.  Its  roots  are  white  and  succulent, 
and  bear  some  resemblance  to  celery  —  hence  the 
plant  is  known  among  the  duck-hunters  as  'wild 
celery.'  It  is  upon  these  roots  the  tanvas-back  al- 
most exclusiv'ely  ft  eds,  and  they  givt  to  the  flesh  of 
these  birds  its  peculiar  and  pleasant  flavor.  Wherever 
the  valisneria  grows  in  quantity,  as  in  the  Chesapeake 
Bay  and  some  rivers,  like  the  Hudson,  there  the 
canvas-backs  resort,  and  are  rarely  seen  elsewhere. 
They  do  not  eat  the  leaves,  but  only  the  white  soft 
roots,  which  they  dive  for  and  pluck  up  with  great 
dexterity.  The  leaves  when  stripped  of  the  root  are 
suffered  to  float  off  upon  the  surface  of  the  water; 
and  where  the  ducks  have  been  feeding,  large  quan> 
titles  of  them,  under  the  name  of  'grass  wrack,'  are 
thrown  by  the  wind  and  tide  upon  the  adjacent 
•hores. 

"  Shooting  the  canvas-backs  is  a  source  of  profit 


isA 


ire 
3nl 


)fit 


wr 


mmm 


mmmmmmm^ 


:    f 


r  t 


t» 


«■< 


4N   ODD   SOBT   OF  DECOT-DUCK. 


19S 


10  hutulreds  of  gunners  who  live  around  the  Chessp 
peake  Bay,  as  these  birds  command  a  high  price  in  the 
markets  of  the  American  cities.  Disputes  have  arisen 
between  the  fowlers  of  different  States  around  the 
Bay  about  the  right  of  shooting  upon  it ;  and  vessels 
full  of  armed  men  —  ready  to  make  war  upon  one 
another — have  gone  out  on  this  account.  But  the 
government  of  these  States  succeeded  in  settling 
th^  matter  peacefully,  and  to  the  satisfaction  of  aU 
parties." 

The  canoe  at  this  moment  shot  rouni  a  bend,  and 
a  long  smooth  expanse  of  the  river  appeared  before 
the  eyes  of  our  voyageurs.  They  could  see  that 
upon  one  side  another  stream  ran  in,  with  a  very 
sluggish  current ;  and  around  the  mouth  of  this,  and 
for  a  good  stretch  below  it,  there  appeared  a  green 
sedge-like  water-grass,  or  rushes.  Near  the  border 
of  this  sedge,  and  in  a  part  of  it  that  was  thin,  a  flock 
of  wild  fowl  was  diving  and  feeding.  They  were 
small,  and  evidently  ducks ;  but  the  distance  was  yet 
too  great  for  the  boys  to  make  out  to  what  species 
they  belonged.  A  single  large  swan  —  a  trumpeter  — - 
was  upon  the  water,  between  the  shore  and  the  ducks, 
and  was  gradually  making  towards  the  latter.  Fran- 
9ois  immediately  loaded  one  of  his  barrels  with  swan, 
or  rather  "buck"  shot,  and  Basil  looked  to  his  rifle. 
The  ducks  were  not  thoUj-ht  of —  the  trumpeter  was 
to  be  the  game.  Lucien  took  out  his  telescope,  and 
commenced  obocrving  th<>.  flock.  They  had  not  in- 
tended to  use  any  prec&utim  in  approaching  the 
birds,  as  they  were  not  extremely  anxious  about  get- 
ting a  shot,  and  were  permitting  the  canoe  to  glide 


Jt- 


194 


AS   ODD   80BT  OF  DECOT-DUCK 


gently  towards  them.  An  exclamation  from  LucieOi 
however,  caused  them  to  change  their  tactics.  He 
directed  them  suddenly  ^  «  hold  water  "  and  stop  the 
canoe,  at  the  same  time  telling  them  that  the  birds 
'  ahead  were  the  very  sort  about  which  they  ha«l  been 
conversing — the  "  canvas-backs."  He  had  no  doubt 
of  it,  judging  from  their  color,  size,  and  peculiar 
movements. 

The  announcement  produced  a  new  excitement. 
All  four  were  desirous  not  only  of  shooting,  but  of 
toting f  a  canvas-back;  and  arrangements  were  set 
about  to  e£fect  the  former.  It  was  known  to  all  that 
the  cani^as-backs  are  among  the  shyest  of  water-fowl, 
80  much  so  that  it  is  difficult  to  approach  them  unless 
under  cover.  While  feeding,  it  is  said,  they  keep  sen- 
tinels on  the  lookout.  Whether  this  be  true  or  not, 
it  is  certain  that  they  never  all  dive  together,  some 
always  remaining  above  water,  and  apparently  watch- 
ing while  the  others  are  under.  A  plan  to  get  near 
them  was  jaecessary,  and  one  was  suggested  by  Nor- 
man, which  was  to  tie  bushes  around  the  sides  of  the 
canoe,  so  as  to  hide  both  the  vessel  and  those  in  it 
This  plan  was  at  once  adopted — the  canoe  was  pad- 
dled up  to  the  bank  —  thick  bushes  were  cut,  and  tied 
along  the  gunwale ;  and  then  our  voyageurs  climbed 
in,  and  laying  themselves  as  low  as  possible,  com- 
menced paddling  gently  downward  in  the  direction  of 
the  ducks.  The  rifles  were  laid  aside,  as  they  could 
be  of  little  service  with  such  game.  Fran9ois'  double- 
barrel  was  the  arm  upon  which  dependence  was  now 
placed ;  and  Franpois  himself  leaned  forward  in  the 
bow  in  order  to  be  ready,  while  the  others  attended 


i< 


HMB^H 


AM   ODD   SOBT   OF  DECOT-DUCK. 


195 


10  the  guidance  of  the  vessel.  The  buck-shot  had 
been  drawn  out,  and  a  smaller  kmd  substituted.  Tbo 
■wan  was  no  k)nger  cared  for  or  even  thought  of. 

In  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour's  time,  the  canoe, 
gliding  silently  alt^ng  the  edge  of  tLa  sedge  —  which 
was  the  wild  celerj'  (  Valimeria  spiralis)  —  came  near 
the  place  where  the  ducks  were ;  and  the  boys,  peep* 
ing  through  the  leafy  screen,  could  now  see  tho  birdi 
plainly.  They  saw  that  they  were  not  all  canvas- 
backs,  but  that  three  distinct  kinds  of  ducks  were 
feeding  together.  One  sort  was  the  canvas-backs 
themselves,  and  a  second  kind  very  much  resembled 
them,  except  that  they  were  a  si/e  smaller.  These 
were  the  "red-heads"  or  "pochards."  The  third 
species  was  different  from  either.  They  had  also 
heads  of  a  reddish  color,  but  of  a  brighter  red,  and 
marked  by  a  white  band  that  ran  from  the  root  of  whe 
bill  over  the  crown.  This  mark  enabled  Lucien  at 
once  to  tell  the  species.  They  were  widgeons  {A, 
Americana) ;  but  the  most  singular  thing  that  was 
now  observed  by  our  voyageurs  was  the  terms  upon 
which  these  three  kinds  of  birds  lived  with  each  other. 
It  appeared  that  the  widgeon  obtained  its  food  by  a 
regular  system  of  robbery  and  plunder  perpetrated 
upon  the  community  of  the  canvas-backs.  The  latter, 
as  Lucien  had  said,  feeds  upon  the  roots  of  tha  vaUs- 
neria ;  but  for  these  it  is  obliged  to  dive  to  the  depth 
of  four  or  five  feet,  and  also  to  spend  some  time  at  the 
bottom  while  plucking  them  up.  Now  the  widgeon  ia 
as  fond  of  the  "  celery "  as  the  canvas-back,  but  th9 
former  is  not  a  diver —  in  fact,  never  goes  under  water 
except  when  wasning  itself  or  in  play,  and  it  hai 


I 


i 


196 


AN  ODD   SORT   OF  DECOT-DDOK. 


therefoie  no  means  of  procuring  the  desired  nM>tft 
Mark,  then,  the  plan  that  it  takes  to  effect  this  end 
Seated  as  near  as  is  safe  to  the  canvas-back,  it  waiti 
until  the  latter  makes  bis  somersault  and  goes  down. 
It  (the  widgeon)  then  darts  forward  so  as  to  be  suffi- 
ciently close,  and,  pausing  agam  scans  the  surface  with 
eager  4iye.  It  can  tell  where  the  other  is  at  work,  as 
the  blades  of  the  plant  at  which  it  is  tugging  are  seen 
to  move  above  the  water.  These  at  length  disappear^ 
pulled  down  as  the  plant  is  dragged  from  its  root,  and 
almost  at  the  same  instant  the  canvas-back  comes  up 
holding  the  root  between  his  mandibles.  But  the 
widgeon  is  ready  for  him.  He  has  calculated  thij 
exact  spot  where  the  other  will  rise ;  md,  before  the 
latter  can  open  his  eyes  or  get  them  clear  of  the  water, 
the  widgeon  darts  forward,  snatches  the  luscious  morsel 
from  his  bill,  and  makes  off  with  it.  Conflicts  some* 
times  ensue  ;  but  the  widgeon,  knowing  himself  to  bit 
the  lesser  and  weaker  bird,  never  stands  to  give  battle, 
but  secures  his  prize  through  his  superior  agility.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  canvas-back  rarely  attempts  to 
follow  him,  as  he  knows  that  the  other  is  swifler  upon 
the  water  than  he.  He  only  looks  after  his  lost  root 
with  an  air  of  chagrin,  and  then,  reflecting  that  there 
is  "  plenty  more  where  it  came  from,"  kicks  up  ita 
heels,  and  once  more  plunges  to  the  bottom. 

The  red-head  rarely  interferes  with  either,  as  he  is 
ftontented  to  feed  upon  the  leaves  and  stalks,  at  all 
times  floating  in  plenty  upon  the  surface. 

As  the  canoe  glided  near,  those  on  board  watched 
these  curious  manoeuvres  of  the  birds  with  feelings  of 
'interest.    They  saw,  moreover,  that  the  "  trumpeter  * 


^mm 


mmmmmm 


JLH   ODD   SORT    OF  DBCOT-DUOS. 


197 


had  arrived  among  them,  and  the  ducks  seemed  to 
take  no  notice  of  him.  Lucien  was  struck  with  some* 
Ihing  unusual  in  the  appearance  of  the  swan.  Its 
plumage  seemed  ruffled  and  on  end,  and  it  glided  along 
in  a  stiff  and  unnatural  manner.  It  moved  its  neck 
neither  to  one  side  nor  the  other,  but  held  its  head  bent 
forward,  until  its  bill  almost  touched  the  water,  in  the 
attitude  that  these  birds  adopt  when  feeding  upon 
something  near  the  surface.  Lucien  said  nothing  to 
his  companions,  as  they  were  all  silent,  lest  they  might 
frighten  the  ducks ;  but  Basil  and  Norman  had  also 
remarked  the  strange  look  and  conduct  of  the  trum- 
peter. Fran9ois'  eyes  weire  bent  only  upon  the  ducks, 
and  he  did  not  heed  the  other. 

As  they  came  closer,  first  Lucien,  and  then  Basil 
and  Norman,  saw  something  else  that  puzzled  them 
Whenever  the  swan  approached  any  of  the  ducks, 
these  were  observed  to  disappear  under  the  water. 
At  first,  the  boys  thought  that  they  merely  dived  to 
get  out  of  his  way,  but  it  was  not  exactly  in  the  same 
manner  as  the  others  were  diving  for  the  roots.  More- 
over, none  of  those  that  went  down  in  the  neighbor^ 
hood  of  the  swan  were  seen  to  come  up  again ! 

There  was  something  ver^  odd  in  all  this,  and  the 
three  boy^<,  thinking  so  at  the  same  time,  were  about 
to  communicate  their  thoughts  to  one  another,  when 
the  double  crack  of  Francois'  gun  drove  the  thing, 
for  a  moment,  out  of  their  heads  ;  and  they  all  looked 
over  the  bushes  to  see  how  many  canvas-bncks  had 
been  killed.  Several  were  seen  dead  or  fluttering 
along  the  surface ;  but  no  one  counted  them,  for  a 
itrange,  and  even  terrible,  object  now  presented  itself 


198 


AN   ODD   SORT    OF  DBCOT-DUCK. 


■ 


to  the  astonished  senses  of  all.  If  the  conduct  of  the 
Bwan  had  been  odd  before,  it  was  new  doubly  so.  In* 
stead  of  flying  off  after  the  shot,  a^  all  expected  it 
would  do,  it  was  now  seen  to  dance  and  plunge  about 
on  the  water,  uttering  loud  screams,  that  resembled 
the  human  voice  far  more  than  any  other  sounds  I 
Then  it  rose  as  if  pitched  into  the  air,  and  fell  on  its 
back  some  distance  off;  while  in  its  place  was  seen  • 
dark,  round  object  moving  through  the  water,  as  if 
making  for  the  bank,  and  uttering,  as  it  went,  the 
same  hideous  human-like  screams  1 

This  dark  object  was  no  other  than  the  poll  of  a 
human  beihg ;  and  the  river  shallowing  towards  the 
bank,  it  rose  higher  and  higher  above  the  water,  until 
the  boys  could  distinguish  the  glistening  neck  and 
naked  shoulders  of  a  red  and  brawny  Indian  1  All 
was  now  explained.  The  Indian  had  been  duck-hunt- 
ing, and  had  used  the  stuffed  skin  of  the  swan  as  his 
disguise ;  and  hence  the  puzzling  motions  of  the  bird. 
He  had  not  noticed  the  canoe  —  concealed  as  it  was  — • 
until  the  loud  crack  of  Fran9ois'  gun  had  startled  him 
from  his  work.  This,  and  the  heads  and  white  faces 
of  the  boys  peeping  over  the  bushes,  had  frightened 
him,  even  ^^re  than  he  had  them.  Perhaps  they 
were  the  first  white  faces  he  had  ever  seen.  But, 
whether  or  not,  sadly  frightened  he  was;  for,  on 
reaching  the  bank,  he  did  not  stop,  but  ran  off  into 
the  woods,  howling  and  yelling  as  if  Old  Nick  had 
been  after  him  .*  and  no  doubt  he  believed  !hat  such 
was  the  case. 

The  travellers  picked  up  the  swan-skin  out  of  curi* 
osity ;  and,  in  addition  to  the  dupks  which  Fran9oii 


AN   ODD    SORT   OF  DECOT-DUCK. 


199 


had  killed,  they  found  nearly  a  score  of  these  birds 
which  the  Indian  had  dropped  in  his  fright,  and  that 
had  afterwards  risen  to  the  surface.  These  were 
strung  together,  and  all  had  their  necks  broken. 

After  getting  them  aboard,  the  canoe  was  cleared 
of  the  bushes;  and  the  paddles  being  once  more 
called  into  servicef  the  little  crafl  shot  down  atrma 
like  ao  arrow. 


900 


THE  DUCKS  OF  iMEBICJ. 


,  I 


CHAPTER  XX 


TRB  DUCKS  OF  AMEBICA. 

LucilEN  now  continued  bis  "  monograph  **  of  tbt 
American  ducks. 

"  There  are,"  said  he,  **  more  than  two  dozen  spe- 
cies of  ducks  on  the  waters  of  North  America.  Tt.^se 
the  system^tists  have  divided  into  no  less  than  eighteen 
genera!  Why,  it  would  be  more  easy  to  learn  all 
t).:;t  ever  was  known  about  all  the  ducks  in  creation, 
than  to  remember  the  eighteen  generic  names  which 
these  gentlemen  have  invented  and  put  forward. 
Moreover,  the  habits  of  any  two  species  of  these  ducks 
are  more  similar  than  those  of  any  two  kinds  of  dogs. 
Why  then,  I  should  ask  —  why  this  complication  ? 
It  is  true  that  the  ducks  do  not  resemble  each  other  in 
every  thing.  Some  species  are  fonder  of  water  than 
others.  Some  feed  entirely  upon  vegetable  sub- 
stances ;  others  upon  small  fish,  insects,  Crustacea,  &c. 
Some  live  entirely  in  the  sea  ;  others  make  their  home 
in  the  fresh-water  lakes  and  rivers,  while  many  species 
dwell  'ndiiferently,  either  in  salt  or  fresh  waters.  Some 
love  the  open  wave ;  others  the  sedgy  marsh ;  while 
one  or  two  species  roost  upon  trees,  and  build  their 
oests  in  the  hollow  trunks.  Notwithstanding  all  thiS| 
there  is  such  a  similarity  in  the  appearance  and  habits 
of  the  diSerent  species,  that  I  think  the  sjstcmatists 


f'l 


THE  DCCKS  OV  AMEBIGA. 


801 


have  Improved  but  little,  if  any  thing,  upon  the  simple 
arrangement  of  the  true  naturalist,  Wilson,  who  — 
poor  Scotch  imigre  as  he  was,  with  an  empty  purs^ 
and  a  loaded  gun  —  has  collected  more  original  infor- 
mation about  the  birds  of  America  than  all  that  have 
followed  him.  He  described  the  ducks  of  America 
under  the  single  genus  Aruu;  and,  in  my  opinion, 
described  them  in  a  more  intelligent  and  intelligible 
manner  than  any  one  has  done  since  his  time  —  not 
even  excepting  another  great  and  true  naturalist,  whose 
caresr  has  been  longer,  more  successful,  and  happier ; 
and  whose  fame,  in  consequence  of  his  better  fortune, 
has  become,  perhaps,  higher  and  more  extended. 

"  The  water-fowl  of  America,"  continued  Lucien  — 
^  I  mean  the  swanp,  geese,  and  ducks,  are  of  great 
importance  in  the  fur  countries  where  we  are  now 
travelling.  At  certain  seasons  of  the  year,  in  many 
parts,  they  furnish  almost  the  only  article  of  food  that 
can  be  procured.  They  are  all  migratory  —  that  is, 
when  the  lakes  and  rivers  of  these  regions  become 
frozen  over  in  the  winter  they  all  migrate  southward, 
but  return  agam  to  breed  and  spend  the  summer.  They 
do  this,  perhaps,  because  these  wild  territories  afford 
them  a  better  security  during  the  season  of  incubation, 
and  afterwards  of  moulting.  It  is  not  very  certain, 
however,  that  this  is  the  reason,  and  for  my  part  1 
am  inclined  to  think  not,  for  there  are  also  wild,  unin* 
habited  territories  enough  in  southern  latitudes,  and 
yet  they  forsake  these  and  migrate  nopth  in  the 
spring.  '  Their  arrival  in  the  fur  countries,'  writei 
a  distinguished  naturalist,  '  marks  the  commencement 
of  spring,  and  diffuses  as  much  joy  among  the  wander^ 


2(2 


I'l 


THE   DUCKS    OF  AMERICA. 


ing  hunters  of  the  Arctic  regions,  as  the  harvest  or 
vinta;]^e  excites  in  more  genial  climes.'  Both  by  the 
Iiuliaiis  and  hunters  in  the  employ  of  the  Hudson's 
]>ay  Company,  swans,  geese,  and  ducks  are  slaugh- 
tui'ed  by  thousands,  and  are  eaten  not  only  when 
fresh  killed,  but  they  are  salted  in  large  quan- 
tities, and  so  preserved  for  winter  use,  when  fresh 
ones  can  no  longer  be  procured.  Of  course,  both  In> 
dian  and  white  hunters  use  all  their  art  in  killing  or 
capturing  them ;  and  to  effect  this  they  employ  many 
diit'erent  methods,  as  decoying,  snaring,  netting,  and 
shooting  thpm :  but  cousin  Norman  here  could  give  a 
better  description  of  all  these  things  than  I.  Per- 
haps he  will  favor  us  with  some  account  of  them." 

''  The  Indians,"  said  the  young  trader,  taking  up 
the  subject  without  hesitation,  "  usually  snare  them. 
Their  most  common  way  is  to  make  a  number  of 
hedges  or  wattle  fences  projecting  into  the  water  at 
right  angles  to  the  edge  of  the  lake,  or,  it  may  be, 
liver.  Tliese  fences  are  two  or  three  yards  apart, 
and  between  each  two  there  is,  of  course,  an  opening, 
into  which  the  birds  swim,  as  they  make  towards  the 
shore  for  their  food.  In  these  openings,  then,  the 
snares  are  set  and  tied  so  firmly  to  a  post  stuck  in  the 
bottom,  that  the  birds,  whether  ducks,  geese, or  swana^ 
when  caught,  may  not  be  able  to  drag  it  away.  To 
keep  the  snare  in  its  place,  it  is  secured  to  the  wattles 
cf  the  fence  with  tender  strands  of  grass,  that  of 
course  give  way  the  moment  the  fowl  becomes  en- 
tangled. The  snares  are  made  out  of  deer  sinews, 
twisted  like  packthread,  and  sometimes  of  thongs  cut 
from  a  *  parchment '  deer-skin,  which,  as  you  know,  if 


THE   DUCKS   OF   AMERICA 


209 


It  deer-skin  simply  dried,  and  not  tanned  or  dressed. 
The  making  of  the  fences  is  the  part  that  gives  most 
trouble.  Sometimes  the  timber  for  the  stakes  is  not 
easily  had ;  and  even  when  it  is  plenty,  it  is  no  easy 
matter  to  drive  the  stakes  into  the  bottom  and  wattle 
them,  while  seated  in  a  vessel  so  crank  as  a  birch 
canoe.  Sometimes,  in  the  rivers  where  the  water- 
fowl most  frequent,  the  current  is  swift,  and  adds  to 
this  trouble.  Where  the  lakes  and  rivers  are  shai<« 
low,  the  thing  becomes  easier ;  and  I  have  seen  small 
lakes  and  rivers  fenced  in  this  way  from  shore  to 
shore.  In  large  lakes  this  would  not  be  necessary, 
as  most  of  the  water-birds  —  such  as  the  swans 
and  geese  —  and  all  the  ducks  that  are  not  of  the 
diving  kinds  are  sure  to  come  to  the  shore  to  feec?, 
and  are  more  likely  to  be  taken  close  in  to  land  than 
out  in  the  open  water. 

"  The  Indians  oflen  snare  these  birds  upon  the  nest, 
and  they  always  wash  their  hands  before  setting  the 
snare.  They  have  a  notion  —  I  don't  know  whether 
true  or  not — that  if  their  hands  are  not  clean,  the 
birds  can  smeVi  the  snare,  and  will  be  shy  of  going 
into  it.  They  say  that  all  these  birds  —  and  I  be- 
lieve it's  true  of  all  fowls  that  make  their  nests  upon 
the  ground  —  go  into  the  nest  at  one  side,  and  out  at 
the  opposite.  The  Indians,  knowing  this,  always  set 
their  snares  at  the  side  where  the  bird  enters,  and  by 
this  they  are  more  sure  of  catching  them,  and  also  of 
getting  them  some  hours  sooner. 

"  Besides  snaring  the  water-fowl,"  continued  Nor^ 
man,  "  the  Indians  sometimes  catch  them  in  nets,  and 
somi'timei)  on  hooks  baited  with  whatever  the  birds 


104 


THS  DU0K8   or  AMERICA. 


are  known  to  eat  They  also  shoot  them  as  the  «rhit« 
hunters  do,  and  to  get  near  enough  use  every  sort  of 
cunning  that  can  be  thought  of.  Sometimes  they  de- 
coy them  within  shot,  by  putting  wooden  ducks  on  the 
water  near  their  cover,  where  they  themselves  are 
stationed.  Sometimes  they  disguise  their  canoes  under 
brushwood,  and  paddle  to  the  edge  of  the  flock ;  and 
when  the  moulting  season  comes  round,  they  pursue 
them  through  the  water  and  kill  them  with  sticks. 
The  swans,  when  followed  in  this  way,  often  escape. 
With  their  strong  wings  and  great  webbed  feet, 
they  can  flap  faster  over  the  surface  than  a  canoe  caa 
follow  them.  I  have  heard  of  many  other  tricks 
which  the  Indians  of  different  tribes  make  use  of,  but 
I  have  only  seen  these  ways  I  have  described,  besides 
the  one  we  have  just  witnessed." 

Norman  was  one  of  your  practical  philosophers, 
who  did  not  choose  to  talk  much  of  things  with  which 
he  was  not  thoroughly  acquainted. 

Lucien  now  took  up  the  thread  of  the  conversation, 
and  gave  some  further  information  about  the  different 
species  of  American  ducks. 

*'One  of  the  most  celebrated,"  said  be,  "is  the 
'  eider-duck '  {Anas  molliMima),  This  is  prized  for 
its  down,  which  is  exceedingly  soft  and  fine,  and 
esteemed  oi  great  value  for  lining  quilts  and  making 
beds  for  the  over-luxurious.  It  is  said  that  three 
pounds'  weight  of  *  eider  down '  can  be  compressed  to 
the  size  of  a  man's  fist,  and  yet  is  afterwards  so  dilata- 
ble as  to  fill  a  quilt  of  five  feet  square.  The  down  is 
generally  obtained  without  killing  the  bird,  for  that 
which  is  plucked  from  dead  birds  is  far  inferior,  and 


THE  DUCKS   OP  AHERIGA. 


iNM 


has  lost  much  of  its  elasticity.  The  mode  of  procur- 
ing it  is  to  steal  it  from  the  nest,  in  the  absence  of  the 
birds.  The  female  lines  the  nest  with  down  plucked 
from  hor  ovn  breast.  When  this  is  stolen  from  her, 
by  those  who  gather  the  commodity,  she  plucks  out  a 
second  crop  of  it,  and  arranges  it  as  before.  This  be* 
mg  also  removed,  it  is  said  that  the  male  bird  then 
makes  a  sacrifice  of  his  downy  waistcoat,  and  the  neel 
is  once  more  put  in  order;  but  should  this  too  be 
taken,  the  birds  forsake  their  nest  never  to  return  to  it 
again.  The  quantity  of  'eider  down'  found  in  n, 
single  nest  is  sufficient  to  fill  a  man's  hat,  and  yet  it 
will  weigh'  only  about  three  ounces. 

"  The  eider-duck  is  about  the  size  of  the  common 
mallard,  or  wild  duck  proper.  Its  color  is  blacJc 
below,  and  buff-white  on  the  back,  neck,  and  shoul* 
ders,  while  the  forehead  is  bluish  black.  It  is  one  of 
the  '  sea-'iucks,'  or  fuligula,  as  the  naturalists  term 
them,  and  it  is  rarely  seen  in  fresh  water.  Its  food  is 
principally  the  soft  mollusca  common  in  the  Arctic 
seas,  and  its  fiesh  is  not  esteemed  except  by  the 
Greenlanders.  It  is  at  home  only  in  the  higher  lati- 
tudes of  both  continents,  and  loves  to  dwell  upon  the 
rocky  shores  of  the  sea ;  but  in  very  severe  winters 
it  makes  its  appearaiiod  along  the  Atlantic  coast  of 
the  United  States,  where  it  receives  different  names 
from  the  gunners  —  such  as  'black-and-white  coot,' 
'  big  sea-duck,'  '  shoal-duck,'  and  '  squaw-duck ; '  and 
under  these  titles  it  is  often  sold  in  the  markets  of 
American  cities.  Some  suppose  that  the  eider-duck 
conld  be  easily  domesticated.  If  so,  it  would,  no 
doubt,  prove  a  profitable  as  well  as  an  interesting 


200 


THE   DUCKS    OL'    AMERICA. 


u 


experiment;  but  I  believe  it  lias  already  been  at* 
tempted  vtrithout  success.  It  is  in  the  countries  of 
Northern  Europe  where  the  gathering  of  the  elier 
down  has  been  made  an  object  of  industry.  On  the 
American  Continent  the  pursuit  is  not  followed,  either 
by  the  native  or  white  settler. 

"  Another  species  common  to  the  higher  latitudes  of 
both  continents  is  the  '  king-duck,'  so  called  from  its 
very  showy  appearance.  Its  habits  are  very  similar 
to  the  '  eider,'  and  its  down  is  equally  soft  and  valua- 
ble, but  it  is  a  smaller  bird. 

**  A  still  smaller  species,  also  noted  for  its  brilliant 
plunmgc,  inhabits  the  extreme  north  of  both  conti- 
nents. This  is  the  '  harlequin-duck ; '  or,  as  the  early 
colonists  tenn  it,  the  'lord.' 

"  But  the  *  wood-duck '  (Anas  sponsa)  is,  perhaps,  the 
most  beautiful  of  all  the  American  species,  or,  indeed, 
of  all  ducks  whatever  —  although  it  has  a  rival  in  the 
mandarin  duck  of  China,  which,  indeed,  it  very  much 
resembles,  both  in  size  and  markings.  The  wood- 
duck  is  so  called  from  the  fact  of  its  making  its  nest 
in  hollow  trees,  and  roosting  occasionally  on  the 
branches.  It  is  a  fresh-water  d'jck,  and  a  southern 
species  —  never  being  seen  in  very  high  latitudes ; 
nor  is  it  known  in  Europe  in  a  wild  state,  but  is 
peculiar  to  the  Continent  of  America.  It  is  one  of 
the  easiest  species  to  domesticate,  and  no  zoological 
gard(m  is  now  without  it ;  in  all  of  which  its  small 
size  —  being  about  that  of  a  widgeon  —  its  active 
moreraents  and  innocent  look,  its  musical  peet-'peet, 
and,  above  all,  its  beautiful  plumage,  make  it  a  gen* 
era!  favorite. 


'4j 


■*,■' 


THE   I'TTOK'S    OF  AMERICA. 


207 


**  Besides  these,  there  are  many  others  of  the  Amer- 
ican ducks,  whose  description  would  interest  jou,  but 
you  would  grow  tired  were  I  to  give  a  detailed 
account  of  them  all ;  so  I  shall  only  mention  a  few 
that  are  distinguished  by  well-known  peculiarities. 
There  is  the  *  whistler  *  (A.  clangvla),  which  takes  its 
trivial  name  from  the  whistling  sound  of  its  wings 
while  in  flight ;  and  the  *  shoveller,'  so  called  from 
the  form  of  its  bill ;  and  the  *  conjuring,'  or  '  spirit ' 
ducks  of  the  Indians  {Anas  vulgaris  and  albeola), 
because  they  dive  so  quickly  and  dexterously,  that  it 
is  almost  impossible  to  shoot  them  either  with  bow  or 
gun.  There  is  the  *  old  wife,'  or  *  old  squaw '  (Anas 
glacialis),  so  called  from  its  incessant  cackle,  which 
the  hunters  liken  to  the  scolding  of  an  ill-tempered 
old  wife.  This  species  is  the  most  noisy  of  all  the 
duck  tribe,  and  is  called  by  the  voyageurs  '  caccawee,* 
from  its  fancied  utterance  of  these  syllables ;  and  the 
sound,  so  often  heard  in  the  long  nights  of  the  fur 
countries,  has  been  woven  into  and  forms  the  burden 
of  many  a  voyageur's  song.  In  sou!c  parts  of  the 
United  States  the  caccawee  is  called  '  south-southerly,' 
as  its  voice  is  there  thought  to  resemble  this  phrase, 
while  at  the  time  when  most  heard  —  the  autumn  — 
these  ducks  are  observed  flying  in  a  southerly  di- 
rection. 

"  Besides  these,"  continued  Lucien,  "  there  are  the 
teals  —  l)lue  and  green-winged  —  and  the  coots,  and 
the  widf ;eon  —  slightly  differing  from  the  widgeon  of 
Europe  —  and  there  is  the  rare  and  beautiful  little 
ruddy  duck  {A.  rubida),  with  its  bright  mahogany 
color  —  its  long  upright  tail  and  short  neck  —  that  at 


208 


THE  DUCKS   OF  AMEBIC  A. 


a  distance  give  it  the  appearance  of  a  duck  with  two 
heads.  And  there  is  the  well-known  '.pintail,'  and 
the  ♦  pochard,'  or  *  red-head ; '  and  the  *  mallard,*  from 
which  comes  the  common  domestic  variety,  and  the 
*  scoter,*  and '  surf,'  and  *  velvet,'  and  *  dusky,*  ducks  — 
these  last  four  being  all,  more  or  less,  of  a  dark  color. 
And  there  are  the  'shell-drakes,'  or  'fishers,'  that 
Bwim  low  in  the  water,  dive  and  fly  well,  but  walk 
badly,  and  feed  altogether  on  fish.  These,  on  account 
of  their  toothed  bills,  form  a  genus  of  themselves  — 
the  '  mergansers,'  —  and  four  distinct  species  of  them 
are  known  in  America." 

The  apprbnch  of  night,  and  the  necessity  of  landing, 
to  make  their  night  camp,  brought  Lucien's  lecture  to 
»  close.  Indeed  Fran9ois  was  glad  when  it  ended, 
for  he  WM  beginning  to  think  it  somewhat  tedioiit* 


THE   BHKIK£   AND   THE   HDMMING-blRDS.      209 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


THE  SHRIKE  AND  THE  HUMMING-BIBD.?. 


The  picturesque  scenery  of  the  Elk  appeared  to  bo 
A  favorite  resort  with  the  feathered  creation.  Here 
3ur  vo3''ageurs  saw  many  kinds  of  birds ;  both  those 
that  migrate  into  the  fur  countries  during  summer 
and  those  that  make  their  home  there  in  the  cold, 
dark  days  of  winter.  Among  the  former  were  ob- 
served the  beautiful  blue  bird  of  Wilson  {Sialia 
Wilsoni)y  which,  on  account  of  its  gentle  and  innocent 
habits,  is  quite  as  much  esteemed  in  America  as  the 
"  robin."  in  England.  Another  favorite  of  the  farmer 
and  the  homestead,  the  purple  martin,  was  seen  grace- 
fully wheeling  through  the  air;  while,  among  the 
green  leaves,  fluttered  many  brilliant  birds.  The 
"  cardinal  grosbeak "  (Pitylus  cardinalis)  with  his 
bright  scarlet  wings  ;  the  blue  jay,  noisy  and  shatter- 
ing ;  the  rarer  "  crossbill "  (Loxia)  with  its  deep 
crimson  color ;  and  many  others,  equally  bright  and 
beautiful,  enlivened  the  woods,  either  with  their  voice 
or  their  gaudy  plumage.  There  was  one  bird,  how 
ever,  that  had  neither  fine  "  feathers  "  nor  an  agreea- 
ble voice,  but  that  interested  our  travellers  more  than 
any  of  the  others.  Its  voice  was  unpleasant  to  the  ear, 
and  sounded  more  like  the  grating  of  a  rusty  hinge 
than  any  thing  else  they  could  think  of.  The  bird 
•      14 


210 


2HE    SHRIKE 


itself  was  not  larger  than  a  thrush,  of  a  liglit  gray 
color  above,  white  underneath,  and  with  blackish 
wings.  Its  bill  resembled  that  of  the  hawks,  but  its 
legs  were  more  like  those  of  the  woodpecker  tribe ; 
and  it  seemed,  in  fact,  to  be  a  cross  between  the  two. 
It  was  neither  the  color  of  the  bird,  nor  its  form,  nor 
yet  its  song,  that  interested  our  travellers,  but  its  sin- 
gular habits;  and  these  they  had  a  fine  opportuni- 
ty of  observing  at  one  of  their  "  noon  camps,"  where 
they  Tiad  halted  to  rest  and  refresh  themselves  dui"^ 
ing  the  hot  midday  hours.  The  place  was  on  one 
of  the  little  islets,  which  was  covered  with  underwood, 
with  here  and  there  some  larger  trees.  The  under- 
wood bushes  were  of  various  sorts ;  but  close  to  the 
spot  where  they  had  landed  was  a  large  thicket  of 
honeysuckle,  whose  flowers  were  in  full  bloom,  and 
filled  the  air  with  their  sweet  perfume. 

While  seated  near  these,  Fran9oi8*  quick  eye  de- 
tected the  presence  of  some  very  small  birds  moving 
among  the  blossoms.  They  were  at  once  pronounced 
to  be  humming-birds,  and  of  that  species  known  as 
the  "ruby-throats"  {Trockilus  coluhris),  so  called, 
because  a  flake  of  a  beautiful  vinous  color  under  the 
throat  of  the  males  exhibits,  in  the  sun,  all  the  glan- 
cing glories  of  the  ruby.  The  back,  or  upper  parts, 
are  of  a  gilded  green  color ;  and  the  little  creature  is 
the  smallest  bird  that  migrates  into  the  fur  countriea, 
with  one  exception,  and  that  is  a  bird  of  the  same 
genus  —  the  "cinnamon  humming-bird"  {Trochiltu 
rafus).  The  latter,  however,  has  been  seen  in  the 
northern  regions,  only  on  the  western  side  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains ;   but  then  it  has  been  observed 


A 


f 


ll 


IND    THE    HUMMIKG-BIRD8. 


211 


J     ' 


even  a-*  far  north  as  the  bleak  and  inhospitable 
shores  of  Nootka  Sound.  Mexico,  and  the  tropical 
countries  of  America,  are  the  favorite  home  of  the 
humming-birds ;  and  it  was,  for  a  long  time,  supposed 
lliat  the  "ruby-throats"  were  the  only  ones  that 
migrated  farther  north  than  the  territory  of  Mexico 
itself.  It  is  now  known,  that  besides  the  "  cinnamon 
humming-bird,"  two  or  three  other  species  annually 
make  an  excursion  into  higher  latitudes. 

Th9  "ruby-throats"  not  only  travel  into  the  fur 
countries,  but  breed  in  numbers  upon  the  Elk  River, 
the  very  place  where  our  travellers  now  observed 
them. 

As  they  sat  watching  these  I  ttle  creatures,  for 
there  were  several  of  them  skipping  about  and  pois- 
ing themselves  opposite  the  flowers,  the  attention  of 
all  was  attracted  to  the  movements  of  a  far  different 
sort  of  bird.  It  was  that  one  we  have  been  speaking 
of.  It  was  seated  upon  a  tree,  not  far  from  the  honey- 
suckles; but  every  now  and  then  it  would  spring 
from  its  perch,  dash  forward,  and  after  whirring  about 
for  some  moments  among  the  humming-birds,  fly 
back  to  the  same  tree. 

Av  first  the  boys  watched  these  manoeuvres  without 
having  their  curiosity  excited.  It  was  no  new  thing 
to  see  birds  acting  in  this  manner.  The  jays,  and 
many  other  birds  of  the  fly-catching  kind  {Muscicapee)^ 
have  this  habit,  and  nothing  was  thought  of  it  at  the 
moment.  Lucien,  however,  who  had  watched  the 
binl  more  narrowly,  presently  declared  to  the  rest 
that  it  TV  as  catching  the  humming-birds,  and  preying 
upon  them  —  that  each  time  it  made  a  dash  among 


212 


THE   SHRIKE 


the  honeysuckles,  it  carries  off  one  in  its  cLiws,  th« 
sranihiess  of  the  victim  having  prevented  them  at 
fii'st  from  noticing  this  fact.  They  all  now  watched 
it  more  closely  than  before,  and  were  soon  satisfied  of 
the  truth  of  Lucien's  assertion,  as  they  saw  it  seize 
one  of  the  ruby- throats  in  the  very  act  of  entering 
the  corolla  of  a  flower.  This  excited  the  indignation 
of  Fran9ois,  who  immediately  took  up  his  "double- 
barrel,"  and  proceeded  towards  the  tree  where  the 
bird,  as  before,  had  carried  this  last  victim.  The 
tree  was  a  low  one,  of  the  locust  or  pseud-acacia 
family,  and  covered  all  over  with  great  thorny  spikes, 
like  all  trees  of  that  tribe.  Fran9ois  paid  no  atten- 
tion to  this ;  but,  keeping  under  shelter  of  the  under- 
wood, he  crept  forward  until  within  shot  Then 
raising  his  gun,  he  took  aim,  and  pulling  trigger, 
brought  the  bird  fluttering  down  through  the  branches. 
He  stepped  forward  and  picked  it  up  —  not  that  he 
cared  for  such  unworthy  game,  but  Lucien  had  called 
to  him  to  do  so,  as  the  naturalist  wished  to  make  an 
examination  of  the  creature.  He  was  about  turning 
to  go  back  to  camp,  when  he  chanced  to  glance  his 
eye  up  into  the  locust-tree.  There  it  was  riveted  by 
a  sight  which  caused  him  to  cry  out  with  astonish- 
ment. His  cry  brought  the  rest  running  up  to  the 
spot,  and  they  were  not  less  astonished  than  he,  when 
they  saw  the  cause  of  it.  I  have  said  that  the 
branches  of  the  tree  were  covered  with  long  thorny 
epikes  that  pointed  in  every  direction ;  but  one  branch 
in  particular  occupied  their  attention.  Upon  this 
there  were  about  a  dozen  of  these  spines  pointing  up- 
ward, and  upon   each   spike  teas  impaled  a  ruby 


AND   THE   HUMMINO-BIRDS. 


218 


tfiivatl  The  little  creatures  were  dead,  of  course, 
but  they  were  neither  torn  nor  even  much  ruflled  in 
their  plumage.  They  were  all  placed  back  upwards, 
and  as  neatly  spitted  upon  the  thorns  as  if  they  had 
been  put  there  by  hum^  hands.  On  looking  more 
closely,  it  was  discovered  that  other  creatures,  as  well 
afi  the  humming-birds,  had  been  served  in  a  similar 
manner.  Several  grasshoppers,  spiders,  and  some 
coleopterous  insects  were  found,  and  upon  another 
branch  two  small  meadow-mice  (Arvicolte)  had  been 
treated  to  the  same  terrible  death  I 

To  Basil,  Norman,  and  Fran9ois,  the  thing  was 
q  lite  inexplicable,  but  Lucien  understood  well  enough 
what  it  meant.  All  these  creatures,  he  informed  them, 
were  placed  there  by  the  bird  which  Franfois  had 
shot,  and  which  was  no  other  than  the  "  shrike " 
(Lanitts)  or  "  butcher-bird  "  —  a  name  by  which  it 
is  more  familiarly  known,  and  which  it  receives  from 
the  very  habit  they  had  just  observed.  Why  it  fol- 
lows such  a  practice  Lucien  could  not  tell,  as  natural- 
ists are  not  agreed  upon  this  point.  Some  have  as- 
serted that  it  spits  the  spiders  and  other  insects  for 
the  purpose  of  attracting  nearer  the  small  birds  upon 
which  it  preys ;  but  this  cannot  be  true,  for  it  preys 
mostly  upon  birds  that  are  not  insect-eaters,  as  the 
finches ;  besides,  it  is  itself  as  fond  of  eating  gi'ass- 
hoppers  as  any  thing  else,  and  consumes  large  quanti- 
ties of  these  insects.  The  most  probable  explanation 
of  the  singular  and  apparently  cruel  habit  of  the 
butcher-bird  is,  that  it  merely  places  its  victims  upon 
the  thorns,  in  order  to  keep  them  safe  from  ground 
ants,  rats,  mice,  raccoons,  foxes,  and  otlier  preyinc* 


214      THS   SHBIKE   AND   THE   HUMMING-BIRDS. 


hi 


I 


creatures  — just  as  a  good  cook  would  bang  up  bei 
meat  or  game  in  the  larder  to  prevent  the  cats  from 
carrying  it  off.  The  thorny  tree  thus  becomes  the 
storehouse  of  the  shrike,  where  he  hangs  ap  his  super- 
fluous spoil  for  future  use,  jusl  as  the  crows,  magpies, 
and  jays,  make  their  secret  deposits  in  chinks  of  walla 
and  the  hollows  of  trees.  It  is  no  argument  against 
this  theory,  that  the  shrike  sometimes  leaves  these 
stores  without  returning  to  them.  The  fox,  and  dog, 
as  well  as  many  other  preying  creatures,  have  the 
same  habit. 

Wondering  at  what  they  bad  seen,  the  voyage  uri 
returned  to>  their  camp,  and  once  more  embarked  oi 
their  journey. 


-:J 


THE  FISH-HAWK. 


[IM 


CHAPTER  XXn. 


THE  FISH-HAWK. 


A  FEW  days  after,  another  incident  occurred  to  oaf 
▼ojageurs,  which  illustrated  the  habits  of  a  very  in- 
teresting bird,  the  "  ospray,"  or  fish-hawk,  as  it  is  mora 
familiarly  known  in  America. 

The  ospray  {Falco  halicBtus)  is  a  bird  of  the  falcon 
tribe,  and  one  of  the  largest  of  the  genus  —  measuring 
two  feet  from  bill  to  tail,  with  an  immense  spread  of 
wing  in  proportion,  being  nearly  six  feet  from  tip  to  tip. 
It  is  of  a  dark  brown  color  above,  that  color  peculiar  to 
most  of  the  hawk  tribe,  while  its  lower  parts  are  ashy 
white.  Its  legs  and  bill  are  blue,  and  its  eyes  of  a  yellow 
orange.  It  is  found  in  nearly  all  parts  of  America, 
where  there  are  waters  containing  fish,  for  on  these  it 
exclusively  feeds.  It  is  more  common  on  the  sea-coast 
than  in  the  interior,  although  it  also  frequents  the  large 
lakes,  and  lives  in  the  ceutnxl  parts  of  the  continent 
during  summer,  when  these  are  no  longer  fro/>en  over. 
It  is  not  oflen  seen  upon  muddy  rivers,  as  there  it 
would  stand  no  chance  of  espying  its  victims  in  the 
water.  It  is  a  migratory  bird,  seeking  the  South  in 
winter,  and  especially  the  shores  of  the  great  Mexican 
Gulf,  where  large  numbers  are  often  seen  fishing 
together.  In  the  spring  season  these  birds  move  tc 
the  northward,  and  make  their  appearance  along  the 


=r 


216 


THE   FISH-HAWK. 


it 


\' 


Atlantic  coast  of  the  continent,  where  they  diffuse  joy 
into  the  hearts  of  the  fishermen  —  because  the  latter 
know,  on  seeing  Ihem,  that  they  may  soon  expect  the 
large  shoals  of  herring,  shad,  and  other  fish,  for  which 
they  have  been  anxiously  looking  out.  So  groat 
favorites  are  they  with  the  fishermen,  that  they  would 
not  knowingly  kill  an  ospray  for  a  boat-load  of  fish, 
but  regard  these  bold  fishing  birds  in  the  light  of 
*' professional  brethren."  In  this  case  the  old  adage 
that  "  two  of  a  trade  never  agree  "  is  clearly  contra- 
dicted. The  farmer  often  takes  up  his  gun  to  fire  at 
the  ospray  —  mistaking  it  for  the  red-tailed  buzzard 
{Buteo  borealis)  or  some  other  hawk,  several  species 
of  which  at  a  distance  it  resembles  —  but,  on  discover- 
ing his  mistake,  brings  down  his  piece  without  pulling 
trigger,  and  lets  the  ospray  fly  off  unharmed.  This 
singular  conduct  on  the  part  of  the  farmer  arises  from 
his  knowledge  of  the  fact,  that  th^ospray  will  not  only 
not  kill  ary  of  his  ducks  or  hens,  but  that  where  he 
makes  a  settlement  he  will  drive  off  from  the  premises 
all  the  hawks,  buzzards,  and  kites,  that  would  otherwise 
prey  upon  the  poultry.  With  such  protection,  there- 
fore, the  ospray  is  one  of  the  securest  birds  in 
America.  He  may  breed  in  a  tree  over  the  farmer'* 
or  fisherman's  door  without  the  slightest  danger  of 
being  disturbed  in  his  incubation.  I  say  his  incuba 
tion ;  but  the  male  takes  no  part  in  this  domestic  duty 
further  than  to  supply  his  loved  mate  with  plenty  of 
fish  while  she  does  the  hatching  business.  Of  course, 
thus  protected,  the  ospray  is  not  a  rare  bird.  On  the 
contrary,  fish-hawks  are  more  numerous  than  perhaps 
•ny  other  species  of  the  hawk  tribe.    Twenty  or  thirty 


THE   FISH-HAWK. 


217 


nests  may  be  eeen  near  each  other  in  the  same  piece 
of  woods,  and  as  many  as  three  hundred  have  been 
counted  on  one  little  island.  The  nests  are  built  upon 
large  trees  —  not  always  at  the  tops,  as  those  of  rooks, 
but  oflen  in  forks  within  twenty  feet  of  the  ground. 
They  are  composed  of  large  sticks,  with  stalks  of  com, 
weeds,  pieces  of  wet  turf,  and  then  lined  plentifully 
with  dry  sea-grass,  or  any  other  grass  that  may  be 
most  convenient.  The  whole  nest  is  big  enough  to 
make  a  load  for  a  cart,  and  would  be  heavy  enough, to 
give  any  horse  a  good  pull.  It  can  be  seen,  when  the 
woods  are  open,  to  an  immense  distance,  and  the  more 
easily,  as  the  tree  upon  which  it  is  built  is  always  a 
"  dead  wood,"  and  therefore  without  leaves  to  conceal 
it.  Some  say  that  the  birds  select  a  dead  or  decaying 
tree  for  their  nest.  It  is  more  probable  such  is  the 
effect,  and  not  the  cause,  of  their  building  upon  a 
particular  tree.  It  is  qpore  likely  that  the  tree  is  kUled 
partly  by  the  mass  of  rubbish  thus  piled  upon  it,  and 
partly  by  the  nature  of  the  substances,  such  as  sea-weed 
in  the  nest,  the  oil  of  the  fish,  the  excrement  of  the 
birds  themselves,  and  the  dead  fish  that  have  been 
dropped  about  the  root,  and  suffered  to  remain  there  ; 
for  when  the  ospray  lets  fall  his  finny  prey,  which  he 
often  does,  he  never  condescends  co  pick  it  up  again, 
but  goes  in  search  of  another.  Boys  "a-nesting" 
might  easily  discover  the  nest  of  the  ospray ;  but  were 
they  inclined  to  despoil  it  of  its  three  or  four  egga 
(which  are  about  the  size  of  a  duck's,  and  blotched 
with  Spanish  brown),  they  would  find  that  a  less  easy 
task,  for  the  owners  would  be  very  likely  to  claw  their 
tyes  out,  or  else  scratcl^  the  tender  skin  from  their 


218 


THE    FISH  HAWK. 


beardless  cheeks:  do  that  bojs  do  not  oflen  trouble 
the  nest  of  the  ospray.  A  very  curious  arecdote  is 
related  of  a  negro  having  climbed  up  to  plunder  a  nest 
of  these  birds.  The  negro's  head  was  covered  with  a 
close  nap  of  his  own  black  wool,  which  is  supposed  bjr 
a  certain  stretch  of  fancy  to  have  the  peculiarity  of 
"growing  in  at  both  ends."  The  negro,  having  no 
other  protection  than  that  which  his  thick  fur  afforded 
him,  was  assailed  by  both  the  owners  of  the  nest,  one 
of  which,  making  a  dash  at  the  "darkie's"  head, 
struck  his  talons  so  firmly  into  the  wool,  that  he  was 
unable  to  extricate  them,  and  there  stuck  fast,  until 
the  astonished  plunderer  had  reached  the  foot  of  the 
tree.  We  shall  not  answer  for  the  truthfulness  of  this 
anecdote,  although  there  is  nothing  improbable  about 
it ;  for  certain  it  is  that  these  birds  defend  their  nesta 
with  courage  and  fury,  and  we  know  of  more  than 
one  instance  of  persons  being  severely  wounded  who 
made  the  attempt  to  rob  them. 

The  osprays,  as  already  stated,  feed  exclusively  on 
fish.  They  are  not  known  to  prey  upon  birds  or  quad- 
rupeds  of  any  kind,  even  when  deprivrrl  ov  their 
customary  food,  as  they  sometimes  are  for  days,  on 
account  of  the  lakes  and  rivers,  in  which  they  ex 
pected  to  find  it,  being  frozen  over  to  a  later  season 
than  usual.  Other  birds,  as  the  purple  grakles,  often 
build  among  the  sticks  of  the  ospray's  nest,  and  rear 
their  young  without  being  meddled  with  by  this  gen- 
erous bird.  This  is  an  important  point  of  difference 
between  the  ospray  and  other  kinds  of  hawks ;  and 
there  is  a  peculiarity  of  structure  about  the  feet  and 
legs  of  the  ospray,  that  points  to  the  nature  of  hi) 


THB   PI8H-HAWK. 


219 


ftiod  and  his  mode  of  procuring  it.     Ilis  Tegs  are  dis 
proportionatuly  long  and  strong.     They  are  without 
featiiers  nearly  to  the  knees.     The  feet  and  toes  are 
also  very  long,  and  the  soles  are  covered  with  thick, 

t  hard  scales,  like  the  teeth  of  a  rasp,  which  enable  the 
bird  to  hold  securely  his  slippery  proy.  The  clawsi 
too,  are  long,  and  curved  into  semicircles,  with  points 
upon  them  almost  as  sharp  as  needles. 

I  have  stated  thai  an  incident  occurred  to  our  party 

,  taat  illustrated  some  of  the  habits  of  this  interesting 
bird.  It  was  upon  the  afternoon  of  a  Saturday,  after 
they  had  fixed  their  camp  to  remain  for  the  following 
day.  They  had  landed  upon  a  point  or  promontory 
that  rau  out  into  the  river,  and  from  which  they  com- 
manded a  view  of  a  fine  stretch  of  water.  Near 
where  they  had  placed  their  tent  was  the  nest  of  an 
ospray,  in  the  forks  of  a  large  poplar.  The  tree,  aa 
usual,  was  dead,  and  the  young  were  plainly  visible 
over  the  edge  of  the  nest.  They  appeared  to  be  full- 
grown  and  feathered ;  but  it  is  a  peculiarity  of  the 
young  osprays  that  they  will  remain  in  the  nest,  and 
be  fed  by  the  parent  birds,  until  long  after  they  might 
be  considered  able  to  shift  for  themselves.  It  is  even 
asserted  that  the  latter  became  impatient  at  length, 
and  drive  the  young  ones  out  of  the  nest  by  beating 
them  with  their  wings;  but  that  for  a  considerable 
time  afterwards  they  continue  to  feed  them  —  most 
likely  until  the  young  birds  learn  to  capture  their  finny 
prey  for  themselves. 

This  Lucien  gave  as  a  popular  statement,  but  did  not 
vouch  for  its  truth.  It  was  not  long,  however,  before 
both  he  and  his  companions  witnessed  its  complete 
verification.  ,     -  " 


^->s 


^» 


22i 


THE  FISH-HAWK. 


The  old  birds,  after  the  arrival  of  the  ^oyagejrt 
upon  the  promontorj,  had  vemained  for  some  time 
around  the  nest,  and  at  intervals  had  shot  down  to 
where  the  party  was,  uttering  loud  screams,  and  mak* 
ing  the  air  whizz  with  the  strokes  of  their  wings. 
Seeing  that  there  was  no  intention  of  disturbing  them, 
the}  at  length  desisted  from  these  demonstrations,  anj 
sat  for  a  good  while  quietly  upon  the  edge  of  their 
nest.  Then  first  one,  and  shortly  after  the  other,  flew 
out,  and  commenced  sailing  in  circles,  at  the  height 
of  a  hundred  feet  or  so  above  the  water.  Nothing 
could  be  more  graceful  than  their  flight.  Now  they 
would  poise  themselves  a  moment  in  the  air,  then  turn 
their  bodies  as  if  on  a  pivot,  and  glide  off  in  another 
direction.  All  these  motions  were  carried  on  with  the 
most  perfect  ease,  and  as  if  without  the  slightest  aid 
from  the  wings.  Again  they  would  come  to  a  pause, 
holding  themselves  fixed  in  mid-air  by  a  gentle  flap- 
ping, and  appearing  to  scrutinize  some  object  below. 
Perhaps  it  was  a  fish ;  but  it  was  either  too  large  a 
one,  or  not  the  species  most  relished,  or  maybe  it  had 
sunk  to  too  great  a  deptb  to  be  easily  taken.  Again 
they  sail  around ;  one  of  them  suddenly  arrests  its 
flight,  and,  like  a  stone  projected  from  a  sling,  shoots 
down  to  the  water.  Before  reaching  the  surface,  how- 
ever, the  fish,  whose  quick  eye  has  detected  the  com- 
ing enemy,  has  gone  to  the  dark  bottom,  and  con- 
cealed himself;  and  the  ospray,  suddenly  checking 
himself  by  his  wings  and  the  spread  of  his  full 
tail,  mounts  again,  and  recommences  his  curvilinear 
Oight.      • 

After  this  had  gone  on  foi"  some  time,  one  cf  thf 


f 


0 


THK   FISH-HAWK. 


ii  Ml 


birds  —  the  larger  one,  an*'  therefore  the  female  — 
was  seen  to  leave  off  hunting,  and  return  to  the  nest. 
There  she  sat  onlj  for  a  few  seconds,  when,  to  the  as- 
tonishment of  the  boys,  she  began  to  strike  her  winga 
against  the  young  ones,  as  if  she  was  endeavoring  to 
force  them  from  the  nest.  This  was  just  what  she 
designed  doing.  Perhaps  her  late  unsuccessful  at- 
tempt lO  get  them  a  fish  had  led  her  to  a  train  of  re* 
flections,  and  sharpened  her  determination  to  make 
them  shift  for  themselves.  However  that  may  be,,  ia 
a  few  motrents  she  succeeded  in  driving  them  up  to 
the  edge,  and  then,  by  half  pushing,  and  half  beating 
them  with  her  wings,  one  after  the  other  —  two  of 
them  there  were  —  was  seen  to  take  wing,  and  soar 
away  out  over  the  lake. 

At  this  moment,  the  male  shot  down  upon  the  water, 
and  then  rose  again  into  the  air,  bearing  a  fish,  head- 
foremost, in  his  talons.  He  flew  directly  towards  one 
of  the  young,  and  meeting  it  as  it  hovered  in  the  air, 
turned  suddenly  over,  and  held  out  the  fish  to  it.  The 
latter  clutched  it  with  as  much  ease  as  if  it  had  been 
accustomed  to  the  thing  fo*"  years,  and  then  turning 
away,  carried  the  fish  to  a  neighboring  tree,  and  com- 
menced devouring  it.  The  action  had  been  perceived 
by  the  other  youngster,  who  followed  after,  and  alighted 
upon  the  same  branch,  with  the  intention  of  sharing 
in  the  meal.  In  a  few  minutes,  the  best  part  of  thd 
fi'h  was  eaten  up,  and  both,  rising  from  the  branch, 
flew  back  to  their  nest.  There  they  were  met  by  the 
parents,  and  welcomed  with  a  loud  squeaking,  that 
was  intended,  no  doubt,  to  congratulate  them  upon  the 
luccess  of  their  first  "  fly." 


'I 


.» 


B 


S22 


THE   OSPRAT  AND   HIS   TTBANT. 


V,. 


^'  CHAPTER  XXin.  • 

THB  OSPRAY  AND  HIS  TYRANT. 

Afteb  remaining  for  Bomo  time  on  the  n&jt  along 
with  the  others,  the  old  male  again  resolved  to  *'go 
a-fishing,"  and  with  this  intent  he  shot  out  from  the 
tree,  and  commenced  wheeling  above  the  water. 
The  boys,  having  nothing  better  to  engage  them,  sat 
watching  his  motions,  while  thej  freely  conversed 
about  his  habits  and  other  points  in  his  natural  his- 
tory. Lucien  informed  them  that  the  ospray  is  a  bird 
common  to  both  continents,  and  that  it  is  often  seen 
upon  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean,  pursuing  the 
finny  tribes  there,  just  as  it  does  in  America.  In 
some  parts  of  Italy  it  is  called  the  "  leaden  eagle," 
because  its  sudden  heavy  plunge  upon  the  water  ia 
fancied  to  resemble  the  falling  of  a  piece  of  lead. 

While  they  were  discoursing,  the  ospray  was  seen  to 
dip  once  or  twice  towards  the  surface  of  the  water,  and 
then  suddenly  check  himself,  and  mount  upward  again. 
These  manoeuvres  were  no  doubt  caused  by  the  fish, 
which  he  intended  to  "hook"  having  suddenly  s'  ifted 
their  quarters.  Most  probably  experience  had  taught 
them  wisdom,  and  they  knew  the  ospray  as  their  most 
terrible  enemy.  But  they  were  not  to  escape  him  al 
ftit  times.  As  the  boys  watched  the  bird,  he  was  seen 
r)   >aNe  himself  K>~  an  instant  in  the  air,  then  sud 


f 


^"li. 


THE    08PRA.T   AND    HIS    TYRANT. 


22S 


Jenly  closing  liis  wings,  he  shot  vertically  Jownward 
So  ntpid  was  his  des^^nt,  that  the  eye  could  only  trace 
it  like  a  bolt  of  lightning.  There  was  a  sharp  whizz- 
ing sound  in  the  air — a  plash  was  heard  —  then  the 
smooth  bosom  of  the  water  was  seen  to  br  ^^ak,  and  the 
white  spray  rose  several  feet  above  the  sui  ^ace.  For 
Ml  instant  the  bird  was  no  longer  seen.  He  was 
underneath,  and  the  place  of  his  descent  was  marked 
by  a  patch  of  foam.  Only  a  single  moment  was  he 
out  of  sight  The  next  he  emerged,  and  a  few  strokes 
of  his  broad  wing  carried  him  into  the  air,  while  a 
large  fish  was  seen  griped  in  his  claws.  As  the  voy* 
ageurs  had  before  noticed,  the  fish  was  carried  head- 
foremost, and  this  led  them  to  the  conclusion  that  in 
f;ti'iking  his  prey  beneath  the  water,  the  ospray  follows 
it  and  aims  his  blow  from  behind. 

After  mounting  a  short  distance  the  bird  paused  for 
a  moment  in  the  air,  and  gave  himself  a  shake,  pre- 
cisv^ly  as  a  dog  would  do  after  coming  out  of  water. 
He  tlien  directed  his  flight,  now  somewhat  slow  and 
iiea-A  towards  the  nest.  On  reaching  the  tree,  how* 
(;ve;  iiere  appeared  to  be  some  mismanagement. 
1lI'<  mh  caught  among  the  branches  as  he  flew  in- 
waru,  i^erhapj  che  presen  ce  of  the  camp  had  dis- 
tracted his  attention,  and  rendered  him  less  carefuL 
At  all  events,  the  prey  was  seen  to  drop  from  Lis 
talons ;  and,  bounding  from  branch  to  branch,  went 
tumbling  down  to  the  bottom  of  the  tree. 

Nothing  could  be  more  opportune  than  this,   tbt 

Francois  had  not  been  able  to  get  a  "  nibble  "  during 

L'  -ivhole  day,  and  a  fresh  fish  for  dinner  was  very 

(i  js^'rable  to  all.     Franpois  and  Basil  had  both  sfartd 


^va 


224 


THE    08PEAT   AND    HIS    TTKANT. 


to  their  feet,  in  order  to  secure  the  fish  before  ta« 
ORpraj  should  pounce  down  and  pick  it  up ;  but  Lu- 
cien  assured  them  that  they  need  be  in  no  hurry  about 
that,  as  the  bird  would  not  touch  it  again  afler  he  had 
once  let  it  fall.  Hearing  this,  tbey  took  their  time 
about  it,  and  walked  leisur^iT  up  to  the  tree,  where 
they  found  the  fish  lying.  taking  it  up  they 

were  fain  to  escape  from  th@^  .,,  for  the  eftiuvtum 
arising  from  a  mass  of  other'^stf  t^at  lay  in  a  decom' 
posed  state  around  the  tree  was  more  than  f^y  deli- 
cate pair  of  nostrils  could  endure.  The  one  they  had 
secured  proved  to  be  a  very  fine  salmon  of  not  less 
than  six  pounds  weight,  and  therefore  much  heavier 
than  the  bird  itself  I  The  track  of  the  ospray's  talons 
was  deeply  marked;  and  by  the  direction  in  which 
the  creature  was  scored,  it  was  evident  the  bird  had 
seized  it  from  behind.  The  old  hawks  made  a  con- 
siderable noise  while  the  fish  was  being  carried  away ; 
but  they  soon  gave  up  their  squealing,  and,  once  more 
hovering  out  over  the  river,  sailed  about  with  their 
eyes  bent  upon  the  water  below. 

"What  a  number  of  fish  they  must  kill!"  said 
Franpois.  "  They  don't  appear  to  have  much  diflSculty 
about  it.  I  should  think  they  get  as  much  as  they  can 
eat.     See  I  there  again  I    Another,  I  deciare ! " 

As  Fran9ois  spoke,  the  male  ospray  was  seen  to 
shoot  down  as  before,  and  this  time,  although  he  ap* 
peared  scarcely  to  dip  his  foot  in  the  water,  rose  up 
with  a  fish  in  his  talons 

"  They  have  sometimes  others  lo  provide  for  lie- 
tides  themselves,"  remarked  Lucien.  **  For  instance^ 
the  bald  eagle " 


-a»=^ 


(/ 


,  1 


lUE  OSPRAT  AND   HIS  TTBAMT. 


22» 


i') 


Lucien  was  interrupted  by  a  cackling  screanii 
which  was  at  once  recognized  as  that  of  the  very  bird 
whose  name  had  just  escaped  his  lips.  All  eyes  were 
instantly  turned  in  the  direction  whence  it  came  — 
which  was  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  river — and 
there,  just  in  the  act  of  launching  itself  from  the  top 
of  a  tall  tree,  was  the  great  enemy  of  the  osprayy— 
the  white-headed  eagle  himself  1 

**  Now  a  chase ! "  cried  Fran9ois ;  "  yonder  oomei 
ihe  big  robber ! " 

With  some  excitement  of  feeling,  the  whole  party 
watched  the  movements  of  the  birds.  A  few  strokes 
of  the  eagle's  wing  brought  him  near ;  but  the  ospray 
had  already  heard  his  scream,  and  knowing  it  was  no 
use  carrying  the  fish  to  his  nast,  turned  away  from  it, 
and  rose  spirally  upward,  in  the  hope  of  escaping  in 
that  direction.  The  eagle  followed,  beating  the  air 
with  his  broad  pinions,  as  he  soared  after.  Close  be- 
hind him  went  the  female  ospray,  ittering  wild 
screams,  flapping  her  wings  against  his  very  beak,  and 
endeavoring  to  distract  his  attention  from  the  chase.  It 
was  to  no  purpose,  however,  as  the  eagle  full  well  knew 
her  object,  and  disregarding  her  impotent  attempts, 
kept  on  in  steady  flight  after  hei  mate.  This  con^ 
tinned  until  the  birds  had  reached  a  high  elevation, 
and  the  osprays,  from  their  less  bulk,  were  nearly  out 
of  sight.  But  the  voyageurs  could  see  that  the  eagle 
was  on  the  point  of  overtaking  the  one  that  carried 
the  fish.  Presently,  a  glittering  object  dropped  down 
from  the  heavens,  and  fell  with  a  plunge  upon  tbe 
water.  It  was  the  fish,  and  almost  at  tho  same  instant 
WAS  heard  the  '^  whish ! "  of  the  eagle,  as  tho  great 
15 


4' 


#, 


OB 


226 


THE   08PBAT  AND  UI8  TTBAMT. 


bird  shot  after  it.  Before  reaching  the  surface,  how* 
ever,  his  white  tail  and  wings  were  seen  to  spread 
Budd^^nlj,  checking  bis  downward  course ;  and  then, 
with  a  scream  of  disappointment,  he  flew  off  in  a  bori> 
zontal  direction,  and  alit  upon  the  same  tree  from 
which  h3  had  taken  his  departure.  In  a  minute  aflef 
thr  osprays  came  shooting  down,  in  a  diagonal  line,  to 
their  nest ;  and  having  arrived  there,  a  loud  and  ap- 
parently angry  consultation  was  carried  on  for  somtt 
time,  in  which  the  young  birds  bore  as  noisy  a  part  an 
«ithci  of  their  parents 

*'It's  a  wonder,"  said  Lucien,  "the  eagle  missed 
the  fish  —  he  rarely  does.  The  impetus  which  he  caa 
give  his  body  enables  him  to  overtake  a  falling  object 
before  it  can  reach  the  earth.  Perhaps  the  female 
ospray  was  in  his  way,  and  hindered  him." 

"  But  why  did  he  not  pick  it  rp  in  the  water  ?"  de- 
manded Fran9ois. 

*'  Because  it  went  to  the  bottom,  and  he  could  nol 
reach  it  —  that's  clear." 

It  was  Basil  who  made  answer,  and  the  reason  he 
assigned  was  the  true  one. 

*'  It's  too  bad,"  said  Fran9ois,  *^  that  the  ospray,  not 
half  so  big  a  bird,  must  support  this  great  robber- 
tymnt  by  his  industry." 

*^Iis  no  worse  than  among  our  own  kind,'*  inter- 
posed Basil.  "  See  how  the  white  man  makes  the 
black  one  work  for  him  here  in  America.  That,  how- 
ever, is  the  few  toiling  for  the  million.  In  Europe  the 
case  is  reversed.  There,  in  every  country,  you  see 
ihe  million  toiling  for  the  few  —  toiling  to  support  an 
dligarchy  in  luxurious  ease,  or  a  monarch  in  barbaria 
«plendor." 


THS  OSPBA.T  AND  BIB  TrBAlTT. 


S27 


«  But  why  do  they  do  so  ?  the  fools  I "  aeked  Fran* 
,>oi8,  somewhat  angrily. 

"  Because  they  know  no  better.  That  oligarohyi 
and  those  monarchs,  have  taken  precious  care  to  edu* 
cate  and  train  them  to  the  belief  that  sudi  is  the  naium 
txd  state  of  man.  They  furnish  them  with  scho(d- 
books  which  are  filled  with  beautiful  sophisms  —  all 
tending  to  inculcate  principles  of  endurance  of  wrong, 
and  reverence  for  their  wrongers.  They  fill  their 
rude  throats  with  hurrah  songs  that  paint  false  patri- 
otism in  glowing  colors,  making  loyalty — no  matter 
to  whatsoever  despot  —  the  greatest  of  virtues,  and 
revolution  the  greatest  of  crimes ;  they  studiously 
divide  their  subjects  into  several  creeds,  and  then, 
playing  upon  the  worst  of  all  passions  —  die  passion 
of  religious  bigotry  —  eabily  prevent  their  misguided 
helots  from  uniting  upon  any  point  which  would  give 
them  a  real  reform.  Ah  I  it  is  a  terrible  game  which 
the  present  rulers  of  Europe  are  playing  I " 

It  was  Basil  who  gave  utterance  to  these  sentiments, 
for  the  young  republican  of  Louisiana  had  already 
begun  to  think  strongly  on  political  subjects.  No 
doubt  Basil  would  one  day  be  an  M.  C. 

"  The  bald  eagles  have  been  much  blamed  for  their 
treatment  of  the  osprays ;  but,"  said  Lucien,  "  perhaps 
they  have  more  reason  for  levying  their  tax  than  at 
first  appears.  It  has  been  asked :  Why  they  do  not 
capture  the  fish  themselves  ?  Now,  I  apprehend  that 
there  is  a  natural  reason  why  they  do  not.  As  you 
have  seen,  the  fish  are  not  always  caught  upon  the 
surface.  The  ospray  has  often  to  plunge  beneath  the 
water  in  the  pursuit,  and  Nature  has  gifted  him  wttk 


f28 


THE  OSPBAT  AKD  HIS  TYRANT. 


power  to  do  so,  which,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  she  hat 
denied  to  the  eagles.  The  latter  are  therefore  com> 
pelled,  in  some  measure,  to  depend  upon  the  former 
for  a  supply.  But  the  eagles  sometimes  do  catch  the 
fish  themselves,  when  the  water  is  sufficiently  shallow, 
or  when  their  prey  comes  near  enough  to  the  surface 
tc  enable  them  to  seize  it" 

**  Do  they  ever  kill  the  osprays  ? "  inquired  Fran* 
9018. 

^I  think  not,"  replied  Lucien;  "that  would  be 
*  killing  the  goose,'  ice.  They  know  the  value  of 
their  tax-payers  too  well  to  get  rid  of  them  in  that 
way.  A  band  of  osprays,  in  a  place  where  there  hap- 
pens to  be  many  of  them  together,  have  been  known 
to  unite  and  drive  the  eagles  off.  That,  I  suppose, 
must  be  looked  upon  in  the  light  of  a  successful  revo- 
lution." 

The  conversation  was  here  interrupted  by  another 
incident.  The  osprays  had  again  gone  out  fishihg, 
and,  at  this  moment,  one  of  them  was  seen  to  pounce 
down  and  take  a  fish  from  the  water.  It  was  a  large 
fish,  and,  as  the  bird  flew  heavily  upward,  the  eagle 
again  left  its  perch,  and  gave  chase.  This  time  the 
ospray  was  overtaken  before  it  had  got  two  hundred 
yards  into  the  air ;  and  seeing  it  was  no  usfi  attempt- 
ing to  carry  off  the  prey,  it  opened  its  clawK  and  let 
it  drop.  The  eagle  turned  suddenly,  poised  himself  a 
mosaent,  and  then  shot  after  the  falling  fish.  Before 
the  latter  had  got  near  the  ground,  he  overtook  and 
secured  it  in  his  tailons.  Then,  arresting  his  own 
flight  by  the  sudden  spread  of  his  tail,  he  winged  his 
iray  silently  across  the  river,  and  disappetired  among 


'IBX   OSPRAT   A.ND  HIS  TTRANT. 


22» 


J 


the  trees  upon  the  opposite  side.  The  ospray,  taking 
the  thing  as  a  matter  of  course,  again  descended  to 
th*)  proper  elevation,  and  betook  himself  to  his  work. 
Perhaps  he  grinned  a  little  like  many  another  royal 
tax-payer,  but  he  knew  the  tax  had  to  be  paid  all  the 
same,  and  he  said  nothing. 

An  incident  soon  after  occurred  that  astonished  and 
puzzled  our  party  not  a  little.  The  female  ospray 
that  all  this  time  seemed  to  have  had  but  poor  success 
in  her  fishing,  was  now  seen  to  descend  with  a  rush, 
and  plunge  deeply  into  the  wave.  The  spray  rose  in 
a  little  cloud  over  the  spot,  and  all  sat  watching  with 
eager  eyes  to  witness  the  result  What  was  their  as- 
tonishment when,  afler  waiting  many  seconds,  the  bird 
still  remained  under  water  I  Minute^  passed,  and  still 
she  did  not  come  up.  She  came  up  no  more  I  The 
foam  she  had  made  in  her  descent  floated  away  —  the 
bosom  of  the  water  was  smooth  as  glass  —  not  a  ripple 
disturbed  its  surface.  They  could  have  seen  the 
smallest  object  for  a  hundred  yards  or  more  around 
the  spot  where  she  had  disappeared.  It  was  impos- 
sible  she  could  have  emerged  without  their  seeing  her. 
Where,  then,  had  she  gone  ?  This,  as  I  have  said, 
puzzled  the  whole  party,  and  formed  a  subject  of  con- 
jecture and  conversation  for  the  rest  of  that  day,  and 
also  upon  the  next.  Even  Lucien  was  unable  to 
solve  the  mystery.  It  was  a  point  in  the  natural  his- 
tory of  the  ospray  unknown  to  him.  Could  she  have 
drowned  herself?  Had  some  great  fish,  the  '^gal 
pike,'^  or  some  such  creature,  got  hold  of  and  swal- 
lowed her  ?  Had  she  dashed  her  head  against  a  lockf 
or  become  entangled  in  weeds  at  tho  bottom  of  the 
river? 


i 


180 


THE  08PBAT  IHD  HIS  TTBAHT. 


All  these  questions  were  put,  and  various  tolutiinf 
of  the  problem  were  offered.  The  true  one  was  not 
thought  of,  until  accident  revealed  it  It  was  Satur- 
i&y  when  the  incident  occurred.  The  party,  of 
course,  remained  all  next  day  at  the  place.  They 
heard  almost  continually  the  cry  of  the  bereaved 
bird,  who,  most  likely,  knew  no  more  than  they  what 
had  become  of  his  mate.  On  Monday  our  travellers 
reembarked  and  continued  down  stream.  About  a 
mile  below,  as  they  were  paddling  along,  their  atten- 
tion was  drawn  to  a  singular  object  floating  upon  the 
water.  They  brought  the  canoe  alongside  it.  It  was 
a  large  fish,  a  sturgeon,  floating  dead,  with  a  bird 
beside  it,  also  dead!  On  turning  both  over,  what 
was  their  astonishment  to  see  that  the  talons  of  the 
bird  were  firmly  fixed  in  the  back  of  the  fish!  It. 
was  the  female  osprayl  This  explained  alL  She 
had  struck  a  fish  too  heavy  for  her  strength,  and 
being  unable  to  clear  her  claws  again,  had  been 
drawn  under  the  water,  and  had  perished  along  witii 
bar  viotiBil 


TBB  VOTAaX  INTERRUPTED. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


THE  VOYAGE  INTERRUPTED. 


About  ten  days'  rapid  travelling  down  the  KIk 
BiTer  brought  our  party  into  the  Athabasca  Lr  e— 
sometimes  called  the  ^Lake  of  the  Hills."  Thii 
is  another  of  those  great  bodies  of  fresh  water  that 
lie  between  the  primitive  rocks  of  the  *' Barren 
Grounds,"  and  the  more  fertile  limestone  deposit 
upon  the  west.  It  is  nearly  two  hundred  miW 
long  from  west  to  east,  and  is  only  fifteen  miles  ib 
breadth,  but  in  s(»ne  places  it  is  so  narrow  and  full 
of  islands  that  it  looks  more  like  a  broad  river  than 
a  lake.  Its  shores,  and  many  of  its  islands,  are 
thickly  wooded,  particularly  upon  the  southern  and 
ivestem  edges ;  and  llhe  eye  of  the  traveller  is  delight- 
ed with  many  a  beautiful  vista  as  he  passes  along. 
But  our  voyageurs  took  little  heed  of  these  things. 
A  gloom  had  come  over  their  spirits,  for  one  of  their 
party  had  taken  ill,  and  was  suffering  from  a  painful 
and  dangerous  disease  —  an  intermittent  fever.  It 
was  Lucien  —  he  that  was  beloved  by  all  of  them. 
He  had  been  complaining  for  several  days — even 
while  admiring  the  fair  scenery  of  the  romantic  Elk 
—  but  every  day  he  had  been  getting  worse,  until, 
on  their  arrival  at  the  lake,  he  declared  himself  no 
bnger  able  to  travel.    It  became  necessary,  tJherefor^ 


282 


THE   VOTAGE   INTEi.nrPTBD. 


I'       I 


■i! 

111 


to  suspend  their  journey ;  and  choo-sing  a,  place  foi 
their  camp,  they  made  arrangements  to  remain  until 
Lucien  should  recover.  They  built  a  small  log  hut 
for  the  invalid,  and  did  every  thing  to  make  him  as 
comfortable  as  possible.  The  best  skins  were  spread 
for  his  couch ;  and  cooling  drinks  were  brewed  for 
him  from  roots,  fruits,  and  berries,  in  the  way  he  had 
already  taught  bis  companions  to  prepare  them.  Ev- 
ery day  Franfois  went  forth  with  his  gun,  and  re- 
turned with  a  pair  of  young  pigeons,  or  a  wood*^ 
partridge,  or  a  brace  of  the  beautiful  ruffed  grouse ; 
and  out  of  these  he  would  make  delicate  soups,  which 
he  was  tjie  better  able  to  do,  as  they  had  procured 
Bait,  pepper,  and  other  ingredients,  at  the  Fort.  They 
bad  also  brought  with  them  a  stock  of  tea  —  the  real 
China  tea — and  sugar;  and  as  the  quantity  of  both 
was  but  small,  this  luxurious  beverage  was  made 
exclusively  for  Lucien,  and  was  found  by  him  exceed* 
ingly  beneficial  during  his  illness. 

To  the  great  joy  of  all,  the  invalid  was  at  length 
restored  to  health,  and  the  caQoe  being  once  more 
launched  and  freighted,  they  continued  their  journey. 

They  coasted  along  the  shores  of  the  lake,  and 
entered  the  Great  Slave  River,  which  runs  from  the 
Athabasca  into  the  Great  Slave  Lake.  They  soon 
came  to  the  mouth  of  another  large  river,  called  the 
Peace.  This  runs  into  the  Great  Slave,  a  short  dis- 
tance below  Lake  Athabasca,  and,  strange  to  say, 
th«?  sources  of  the  Peace  River  lie  upon  the  western 
side  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  so  that  this  stream  actu- 
ally runs  across  the  mountain-chain !  It  p  asses  through 
the  mountains  in  a  succession  of  deep  gorges  which 


SJ 


THE   VOYAGE   INTEKRUf  /ED. 


233 


*ro  tervible  to  behold.  On  both  sides  dizzy  cl'fls  and 
snow-capped  peaks  rise  thousands  of  feet  above  its 
rocky  bed,  and  the  scenery  is  cold  and  desdate.  Its 
head  waters  interlock  with  those  of  several  streams 
that  run  into  the  Pacific  ;  so  that,  had  our  voyageura 
wished  to  travel  to  the  shores  of  that  ocean,  they 
might  have  done  so  in  their  birch-bark  canoe  nearly 
the  whole  of  the  way.  But  this  was  not  their  design 
at  present,  so  they  passed  the  debouchure  of  the 
Peace,  and  kept  on  for  the  Great  Slave  Lake.  They 
were  still  upon  the  same  water  as  the  Elk ;  for  tbft 
Great  Slave  is  only  another  name  for  that  part  of  the 
river  lying  between  the  two  lakes  —  Athabasca  and 
Great  Slave.  Of  course  the  river  had  now  become 
much  larger  by  the  influx  of  the  Peace,  and  they 
were  travelling  upon  the  bosom  m  a  magnificent 
Btream,  with  varied  scenery  upon  its  banks.  They 
were  not  so  hanpy,  however,  as  when  descending 
the  Elk  —  not  but  that  they  were  all  in  good  health, 
for  Lucien  had  grown  quite  strong  again.  No,  it  was 
not  any  want  of  health  that  rendered  them  less  cheer- 
ful. It  was  the  prospect  before  them  —  the  prospect 
of  coming  winter,  which  they  now  felt  certain  would 
arrive  before  they  had  got  to  the  end  of  their  jc  urnev , 
Tho  delay  of  nearly  a  month,  occasioned  by  Lucif  *'s 
illness,  had  deranged  all  their  calculations  ;  and  taey 
had  no  longer  any  hope  of  being  able  to  finish  their 
voyage  in  what  remained  of  the  short  summer.  The 
ice  would  soon  make  its  appearance ;  the  lakes  and 
rivers  would  be  frozen  up ;  they  could  no  longer  nav- 
igate them  in  their  canoe.  To  travel  afoot  would  b« 
ft  most  laborious  undertaking,  as  well  as  perilous  in 


f 


234 


THE   VOYAGE   INTERRUPTED. 


•n  extreme  def^ree.  In  this  way  it  is  only  possible 
to  carry  a  very  small  quantity  of  provision — for  the 
traveller  is  compelled  to  load  himself  with  skin-cloth- 
ing in  order  to  keep  out  the  cold.  The  chances  of 
procuring  game  by  the  way,  in  that  season,  are  pre- 
carious, and  not  to  be  depended  upon.  Most  of  the 
birds  and  many  of  the  quadrupeds  migrate  to  more 
southern  regions ;  and  those  that  remain  are  shy  and 
rare.  Besides,  great  snow-storms  are  to  be  encoun- 
tered, in  which  the  traveller  is  in  danger  of  get- 
ting "  smoored."  The  earth  is  buried  under  a  deep 
covering  of  snow,  and  to  pass  over  this  while  soft 
is  ditficillt,  and  at  times  quite  impossible.  All  these 
circumstances  were  known  to  our  y^>ung  voyageurs 
—  to  Norman  better  than  any  of  thCiTi  —  and  of 
course  the  prospect  was  a  cheerless  one — much 
more  so  than  those  unacquainted  with  the  winter  of 
these  dreary  regions  would  be  willing  to  believe. 

It  was  the  month  of  August,  near  its  end,  when 
they  reached  the  Great  Slave  Lake,  in  the  latitude 
of  62°.  The  days  had  now  become  very  short,  and 
their  journeys  grew  short  in  proportion.  They  already 
experienced  weather  as  cold  as  an  English  winter. 
There  were  slight  frosts  at  night  —  though  not  yet 
enough  to  cover  the  water  with  ice  —  and  the  mid- 
day hours  were  hot,  sometimes  too  hot  to  be  comfort- 
able.  But  this  only  caused  them  to  feel  the  cold  the 
more  sensibly  when  evening  set  in ;  and  all  their 
robes  and  skins  were  necessary  to  keep  them  warm 
during  the  night. 

The  Great  Slave  Lake,  like  the  Athabasca,  is  very 
loR^  and  very  narrow.    It  extends  full  260  miles  from 


THE   VOYAGE   INTEBBUPTED. 


235 


east  to  west,  but  at  its  widest  part  is  not  over  thir^ 
and  in  some  places  much  litss.  Along  its  northern 
shores  lies  the  edge  of  the  "  Barren  Grounds,"  and 
there  nothing  meets  the  eye  but  bleak  and  naked  hilla 
of  primitive  rock.  On  its  southern  side  the  geology 
is  entirely  o'  a  diflferent  character.  There  the  lime- 
stone prevails,  and  scarcely  any  thing  that  deserves 
the  name  of  hill  is  to  be  seen.  There  are  fine  forest! 
too,  in  which  poplars,  pines,  and  birches,  are  the  prin- 
cipal  trees.  The  lake  is  filled  with  islands,  many  of 
which  are  wholly  or  partially  covered  with  timber  of 
these  kinds,  and  willows  also  are  abundant.  There 
are  fish  of  several  species  in  its  waters,  which  are  in 
many  places  of  great  depth  —  sixty  fathoms  deep  — 
and  in  some  of  the  islands,  and  around  the  wooded 
shores,  game  exists  in  abundance  in  the  sun^mer 
season.  Even  in  winter  it  is  not  ejcarce,  but  theii  it  i* 
difficult  f'*  follow  it  on  account  of  the  deep  snow. 
Many  of  tne  animals,  too,  at  this  season  become  tor" 
pid,  and  are  of  course  hidden  in  caves  and  hollow 
trees,  and  dven  in  the  snow  itself,  where  no  one  can 
find  them.  Notwithstanding  all  this,  our  voyageurs 
knew  that  it  would  be  the  best  place  for  them  to  make 
their  winter  camp.  They  saw  tbut  to  complete  their 
journey  during  that  season  wou'  i  be  impossible.  Even 
had  it  been  a  month  earlier  it  would  have  been  a  dif- 
ficult undertaking.  In  a  few  days  winter  would  be 
upon  thera.  They  would  have  to  stop  somewhere. 
There  was  no  place  where  they  could  so  safely  stay 
as  by  tht  lake.  One  thing  they  would  have  there, 
which  migut  not  be  found  so  plenty  elsewhere  ;  that 
was  wood  for  their  fire ;  and  this  was  an  inducement 


236 


THE    VOYAGE   INTERRri'TED. 


to  remain  by  the  lake.  Having  made  up  thtir  minds, 
therefore,  to  encamp  on  some  part  of  it,  they  looked 
from  day  to  day  for  a  place  that  would  be  most  suita- 
ble, still  continuing  their  journey  towards  its  western 
end.  As  yet  no  place  appeared  to  their  liking,  and 
as  the  lake  near  its  western  point  trends  away  towanla 
the  south,  Norman  proposed  that  they  should  follow 
the  shore  no  longer,  but  strike  across  to  a  promontory 
on  the  northern  shore  of  the  lake  known  as  "  Slavo 
Point."  This  promontory  is  of  the  limestone  forma- 
tion, and,  as  Norman  had  heard,  is  well  wood'^d,  and 
stocked  with  game.  Even  buffaloes  are  found  there. 
It  is,  in  fact,  the  farthest  point  to  the  north-east  that 
these  animals  range,  and  this  presents  us  with  a  cu- 
rious fact  It  is  the  farthest  point  that  the  limestone 
deposit  extends  in  that  direction.  Beyond  that,  to  the 
east  and  north,  lie  the  primitive  rocks  of  the  Barren 
Grounds,  into  which  the  buffaloes  never  stray.  Thus 
we  observe  the  connection  that  exists  betv/een  the 
fauna  of  a  country  and  its  geological  cha/acter. 

Of  course  they  all  agreed  to  Norman's  proposal. 
The  canoe  was,  therefore,  headed  for  the  open  waters ; 
and,  after  a  hard  day's  paddling  —  for  there  was  a 
liead  wind  —  the  voyageurs  landed  upon  a  small 
wooded  island,  about  half  way  over  the  lake,  where 
they  encamped  for  the  night,  intending  next  day  to 
erosa  the  remaining  part. 


WUVZZIJ    UNDER   THE   ICE. 


287 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


FISHINQ  UNDER  THE  ICB. 


Ok  avraking  next  morning,  to  their  great  surpri^e^ 
jLey  saw  that  the  lake  wan  frozen  over  !  They  had 
almost  anticipated  as  much,  for  the  night  was  one  of 
the  coldest  they  had  yet  experienced  —  so  cold  that 
one  and  all  of  them  had  slept  but  badly.  As  yet  the 
ice  was  thin,  but  so  much  the  worse.  It  was  thick 
enough  to  prevent  them  from  using  the  canoe,  but  too 
thin  to  bear  their  weight,  and  they  now  saw  that  they 
were  prisoners  upon  the  island/ 

It  was  not  without  some  feelings  of  alarm  that  they 
made  this  discovery ;  but  their  fears  were  allayed  by 
reflectinfi;  that  they  could  remain  upon  the  island  until 
the  ice  either  thawed  away  or  became  strong  enough 
to  bear  ^hcm,  and  then  they  could  cross  upon  it  to  the 
northern  shore.  "With  this  consolation,  thi  efore, 
they  set  about  making  their  temporary  quarters  upon 
the  isla/id  as  snug  as  circumstances  would  permit. 
Their  apprehensions,  however,  began  to  return  again, 
when  several  days  had  passed  over,  and  the  ice  neither 
grew  any  thinner  nor  any  thicker,  but  seemed  to  re- 
main at  a  stand -still.  In  the  early  part  ot  the  morn- 
ing it  was  almost  strong  enough  to  bear  them  ;  but  dur- 
ing tho  day  the  sun  melted  it,  until  it  was  little  better 
tiian  a  ecum  over  the  surface  of  the  water.    The  alamo 


\ 


286 


FISHING   UNDER  THE   lOS. 


of  our  vovageurs  increased.  Their  provisions  wen 
nearly  out  There  was  no  game  on  the  islet  —  not  so 
much  as  a  bird  —  for  they  had  beaten  every  bush, 
and  found  nothing.  Once  or  twice  they  thought  of 
launching  their  canoe  and  breaking  a  way  for  it 
through  the  ice.  But  they  knew  that  this  proceeding 
would  be  one  of  much  labor  as  well  as  danger.  The 
islet  was  full  ten  miles  from  the  shore,  and  they  would 
therefore  have  to  break  the  ice  for  ten  miles.  More- 
over,  to  stand  up  in  a  bark  canoe,  so  as  to  get  at  the 
work,  would  be  a  difficult  task.  It  could  not  be  ac- 
complished without  endangering  the  equilibrium  of 
the  vessel,  and  indeed  without  upsetting  it  altogether. 
Even  to  lean  forward  in  the  bow  would  be  a  perilous 
experiment ;  and  under  these  considerations  the  idea 
of  breaking  n  way  was  abandoned.  But  their  provisions 
were  at  length  entirely  exhausted,  and  what  was  to 
be  done  ?  The  ice  was  still  too  weak  to  carry  them. 
Near  the  shore  it  might  have  been  st''ong  enough,  but 
farther  out  lay  the  danger.  There  they  knew  it  waa 
thinner,  for  it  had  not  frozen  over  until  a  later  period. 
It  would  have  been  madness  to  have  risked  it  yot. 
On  the  other  hand,  they  were  starving,  or  likely  to 
starve  from  hunger,  by  staying  where  they  were. 
There  was  nothing  eatable  on  the  island.  Wliat  was 
to  be  done  ?  In  the  water  were  fish  —  they  doubted 
not  that  —  but  how  were  they  to  catch  them  ?  They 
had  tried  them  with  hook  and  line,  letting  the  hook 
through  a  hole  in  the  ice  ;  but  at  that  late  season 
the  fish  would  not  take  a  bait,  and  although  they 
kept  several  continually  set,  and  "  looked  "  them  most 
regularly  and  assiduously,  not  a  ''  tail "  was  taken. 


FISHING   UNDER   THE   IGB. 


289 


Tbej  vre\  e  about  to  adopt  the  desperate  expedient, 
now  more  difficult  than  ever,  of  breaking  their  waj 
through  the  ice,  when,  all  at  once,  it  occurred  to  Nor* 
man,  that,  if  they  could  not  coax  the  fish  to  take  a 
bait,  thej  might  succeed  better  with  a  net,  and  cap- 
ture them  against  their  will.  This  idea  would  have 
been  plausible  enough,  had  there  been  a  net ;  but 
there  was  no  net  on  that  islet,  nor  perhaps  within  a 
hundred  miles  of  it.  The  absence  of  a  net  might 
have  been  an  obstacle  to  those  who  are  ever  ready  to 
despair ;  but  such  an  obstacle  never  occurred  to  our 
courageous  boys.  They  had  two  parchment  skins  of 
the  caribou  which  they  had  lately  killed,  and  out  of 
these  Norman  proposed  to  make  a  net.  He  would 
soon  do  it,  he  said,  if  the  others  would  set  to  work  and 
cut  the  deer-skins  into  thongs  fine  enough  for  the 
purpose.  Two  of  them,  therefore,  Basil  and  Lucien,^ 
took  out  their  knives,  and  went  briskly  to  work; 
while  Fran9ois  assisted  Norman  in  twining  the  thongs, 
and  afterwards  held  them,  while  the  latter  wove  and 
knotted  them  into  meshes.  In  a  few  hours  bo'h  the  skins 
were  cut  into  fine  strips,  and  worked  up ;  and  a  net 
was  produced  nearly  six  yards  in  leugth  by  at  least 
fwo  in  width.  It  was  rude  enough,  to  be  sure,  but 
perhaps  it  would  do  its  work  as  well  as  if  it  had 
been  twined  out  of  silk.  At  all  evfints,  it  was  soon 
to  have  a  trial  —  for  the  moment  it  was  finished 
the  sinkers  were  attached  to  it,  and  it  was  carried 
down  to  the  edge  of  the  water. 

The  three  "  Southerners "  had  never  seen  a  net 
i«t  under  ice  ->  far  in  their  country  ice  is  an  un* 
oommon  thing,  and  indeed  never  fi  eezes  of  sufficient 


SiO 


FISHING    UNDER   THE   ICB. 


thickness  to  carry  the  weight  of  a  man.  They  were 
therefore  very  curious  to  know  how  the  thing  was 
to  be  done.  They  could  not  conceive  how  the  net 
was  to  be  stretched  under  the  ice,  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  2atch  the  fish.  Norman,  however,  knew  all 
about  it.  He  had  seen  the  Indians,  and  had  set 
many  a  one  himself.  It  was  no  new  thing  for  him, 
and  he  set  about  it  at  once 

He  first  crept  out  upon  the  ice  to  the  distance  of 
about  twenty  or  thirty  yards  from  the  shore.  He  pro- 
needed  cautiously,  as  the  ice  creaked  under  him.  Having 
arrived  at  the  place  where  he  intended  to  set  the  net, 
he  knelt  down,  and  with  his  knife  cut  several  holes 
in  the  ice,  at  the  distance  of  about  six  feet  from  each 
other,  and  all  in  one  line.  He  had  already  provided 
himself  with  a  straight  saphng  of  more  than  six  leet 
in  length,  to  one  end  of  which  he  had  attached  a  cord. 
The  other  end  of  this  cord  was  tied  to  the  net  at  one 
of  its  comers.  He  now  thrust  the  sapling  through 
the  first  hole  he  had  made,  and  then  guided  it  so  as 
to  pass  directly  under  the  second.  At  this  hole  he 
took  a  fresh  hold  of  the  stick,  and  passed  it  along  to 
the  next,  and  so  on  to  the  last,  where  he  pulled  it  out 
again,  and  of  course  along  with  it  the  string.  The 
net  was  now  drawn  into  the  first  hole,  and  by  means 
of  the  cord  already  received  through,  was  pulled  out 
to  its  full  length.  The  sinkers,  of  course,  fell  down 
in  the  water,  and  drew  it  into  a  vertical  position. 
At  both  its  upper  corners  the  net  was  made  fast  above 
the  ice,  and  was  now  "  et."  Nothing  more  could  be 
done  until  the  fish  came  into  it  of  their  own  accord, 
when  it  could  be  drawn  out  upon  the  ice  by  means  of 


. 


ri8B.fNa    UNDEB  THE   lOK. 


34S 


the  uoni  attached ;  and,  of  course,  by  the  same  meant 
could  easily  be  returaed  to  its  place,  and  set  again. 

All  of  them  now  went  back  to  the  fire,  and  with 
hungry  looks  sat  around  it,  waiting  the  result  They 
bad  made  up  their  minds,  should  no  fish  be  caught,  to 
get  once  more  into  the  canoe  and  attempt  breaking 
their  way  to  the  shore.  Summoning  all  their  patience, 
therefore,  they  waited  for  nearly  two  hours,  without 
examining  the  net  Then  Norman  and  Basil  crawled 
back  upon  the  ice,  to  see  what  fortune  had  done  for 
them.  They  approached  the  spot,  and,  with  their 
hearts  thumping  against  their  ribs,  untied  the  knot, 
and  commenced  hauling  out 

« It  ce-^ainly  feels  heavy,"  said  Basil,  as  the  net 
was  beik.  _  drawn.  *' Hurrah  I"  he  shouted;  **^ some- 
thing kicks ;  hurrah !  "  and  with  the  second  "  hurrah  I  ** 
%  beautiful  fish  was  pulled  up  through  the  hole,  and 
landed  upon  the  ice.  Aloud  "hurrah" was  uttered 
in  response  by  Lucien  and  Fran9ois  —  who^  fearing 
the  ice  might  not  bear  so  many,  had  remained  upon 
the  shore.  A  yard  or  two  more  of  the  net  was  cleared, 
and  a  second  fish  still  larger  than  the  former  was 
greeted  with  a  general  "  hurrah ! "  The  two  fish  were 
now  taken  out  —  as  these  were  all  that  had  been 
caught  —  and  the  net  was  once  more  carefully  set 
Basil  and  Norman  came  back  to  the  shore  —  Norman 
to  receive  quite  a  shower  of  compliments  from  his 
companions.  The  fish  —  the  largest  of  which  weighed 
nearly  five  pounds  —  proved  to  be  trout ;  and  it  was 
not  long  before  their  quality  was  put  to  the  proof. 
All  declared  they  had  never  eaten  so  fine  trout  in 
tlieir  lives ;  but  when  the  copdition  of  their  appetites 


."miaeffmimmm 


^ 


iiiww 


mm 


242 


nSHIMG    UNDER   THB   ICB. 


18  taken  into  account,  we  may  infer  that  there  was. 
perhaps,  a  little  exaggeration  in  this  statement  If 
hunger  really  makes  good  sauce,  our  voyageurs  had 
the  best  of  sauce  with  their  fish,  as  each  of  them  was 
as  hungry  as  a  half-famished  wolf. 

They  felt  quite  relieved,  as  far  as  present  appetite 
went,  but  they  were  still  uneasy  for  the  future.  Should 
they  not  succeed  in  taking  more  fisL  —  and  it  was  by 
no  means  certain  they  should  succeed  —  they  would 
be  no  better  off  than  ever.  Their  anxiety,  however, 
was  soon  removed.  Their  second  "  haul "  proved  even 
more  successful  than  the  first  —  as  five  fish,  weighing 
together  not  less  than  twenty  pounds,  were  pulled  up. 

This  supply  would  enable  tbem  to  hold  out  for  a 
long  time,  but  they  had  not  much  longer  to  remain  on 
the  islet  Upon  that  very  night  there  was  one  of  those 
severe  frosts  known  only  in  high  latitudes,  and  the  ice 
upon  the  lake  became  nearly  a  foot  in  thickness. 
They  had  no  longer  any  fear  of  its  breaking  under 
their  weight;  and  taking  their  canoe  with  all  their 
**  traps,"  they  set  out  to  cross  over  upon  the  ice.  In  a 
few  hours  they  reached  the  shore  of  the  lake,  near  the 
end  of  the  promontory,  where  tU^y  choee  a  spot,  tnd 
tncMBped. 


All   ODE    ALARM. 


u 


248 


CHAPTER  XXVI 


AN  ODD  ALARM. 


Thb  first  thing  our  voyageurs  did  after  choosing  a 
suitable  situation,  was  to  build  a  log-hut.  Being  young 
backwoodsmen  this  was  but  a  trifle  to  them.  All  four 
of  them  knew  how  to  handle  an  axe  with  dexterity. 
The  logs  were  soon  cut  and  notched,  and  a  small  cabin 
was  put  up,  and  roofed  with  split  clapboards.  With 
the  stones  that  lay  near  the  shore  of  the  lake  they 
built  a  chimney.  It  was  but  a  rude  structure,  but  it 
drew  admirably.  Clay  was  wanted  to  "  chink "  the 
cabin,  but  that  could  not  be  had,  as  the  ground  was 
hard  frozen,  and  it  was  quite  ii^ipossible  to  make  either 
clay  or  r<iud.  Even  hot  water  poured  out  would 
freeze  into  ice  in  a  few  minutes.  This  was  a  serious 
want  —  for  in  such  a  cold  climate  even  the  smallest 
hole  in  the  walls  will  keep  a  house  uncomfortable, 
and  to  fill  the  interstices  between  the  logs,  so  as  to 
make  them  air-tight,  some  soft  substance  was  neces« 
Bary.  Grass  was  suggested,  and  Lucien  went  off  in 
search  of  it.  After  a  while  he  returned  with  an  arm- 
ful of  half-withered  grass,  which  all  agreed  would  be 
the  very  thing;  and  a  large  quantity  was  soon  col- 
lected, as  it  grew  plentifully  at  a  short  distance  from 
the  cabin. 

They  now  set  to  work  to  stuff  it  into  the  chinke  j 


"^i 


•7T 


244 


▲K    ODD   ALABM. 


II 


when,  to  their  astonishment,  they  found  that  thiu  gnu 
had  a  beautiful  smell,  quite  as  powerful  and  as  plcasan 
as  that  of  mint  or  thjmo  !  When  a  small  quantity 
of  it  was  flung  into  the  fire,  it  filled  the  cabin  with  a 
fragrance  as  agreeable  as  the  costliest  perfumes.  It 
was  the  "  scented  grass,"  which  grows  in  great  pro 
fusion  in  many  parts  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  territory^ 
and  out  of  which  the  Indians  often  make  their  beds, 
burning  it  also  upon  the  fire  to  ei\joy  its  aromatic 
perfume. 

For  the  first  day  or  two,  at  their  new  abode,  the 
travellers  had  lived  altogether  on  fish.  They  had,  of 
course,  brought  their  net  with  them  from  the  island, 
and  had  set  it  near  the  shore  in  the  same  way  as 
before.  They  had  captured  as  many  as  they  wanted, 
and,  strange  to  say,  at  one  haul  they  found  no  less 
than  five  different  species  in  the  net !  One  kind,  a 
white  fish,  the  Coregonus  cUbus  of  natu'alists,  but 
which  is  named  "  tittameg "  by  the  fur-traders,  they 
caught  in  great  plenty.  This  fish  is  found  in  nearly 
all  the  lakes  and  rivers  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  territory, 
and  is  much  prized  both  by  whites  and  Indians  for  its 
delicate  flavor.  At  some  of  the  trading  posts  it  often 
forms,  for  weeks  together,  the  only  food  which  the 
residents  can  obtain ;  and  they  are  quite  satisfied 
when  they  can  get  enough  of  it.  The  tittameg  is 
not  a  large  fish ;  the  largest  attain  to  the  weight  of 
alraut  eight  pounds. 

There  was  another  and  still  smaller  species,  which, 
fix)m  its  color,  the  voyageurs  call  the  "  poisson  bleu," 
or  blue  fish.  It  is  the  Coregonus  signifer  of  ichthy- 
ologbts.     It  is  a  species  of  grayling,  and  frequ^tf 


AN   ODi>   ALARM. 


1/ 


245 


ihai^Hrunning  vrater,  where  it  will  leap  at  the  fijlike  a 
troul.  Several  kinds  of  trout  also  inhabit  the  Great 
Slave  Lake,  and  some  of  these  attain  to  the  enormous 
weight  of  eighty  pounds !  A  few  were  caught,  but 
none  of  so  gigantic  proportions  as  this.  Pike  were 
also  taken  in  the  net,  and  a  species  of  burbot  ( GtUtu$ 
lUa),  This  last  is  one  of  the  most  voracious  of  the 
finny  tribe,  and  preys  upon  all  others  that  it  is  able  to 
•wallow.  It  devours  whole  quantities  of  cray-fish, 
until  its  stomach  becomes  crammed  to  such  a  degree 
as  to  distort  the  shape  of  its  whole  body.  When  this 
kind  was  drawn  out,  it  was  treated  very  rudely  by  the 
boys  —  because  its  flesh  was  known  to  be  extremely 
unsavory,  and  none  of  them  cared  to  eat  it.  Marengo, 
however,  had  no  such  scruples,  and  he  was  wont  to 
make  several  hearty  meals  each  day  upon  the  rejected 
burbot. 

A  fish  diet  exclusively  was  not  the  thing ;  and  as 
our  party  soon  grew  tired  of  it,  the  hunter  Basil 
shouldered  his  rifle,  and  strode  off  into  the  woods  in 
search  of  game.  The  others  remained  working  upon 
the  cabin,  which  was  still  far  from  being  finished. 

Basil  kept  along  the  edge  of  the  lake  in  an  easterly 
direction.  He  had  not  gone  more  than  a  quarter  of  a 
mile,  when  he  came  upon  a  dry  gravelly  ridge,  which 
was  thickly  covered  with  a  species  of  pine-trees  that 
resembled  the  Scotch  fir  {Pinus  sylvestris).  These 
trees  were  not  over  forty  feet  in  height,  with  very 
thick  trunks  and  long  flexible  branches.  No  other 
trees  grew  among  them,  for  it  is  the  nature  of  this  pine 
►—  which  was  the  "  scrub  "  or  gray  pine  {P.  Banksi* 
una)  —  to  monopolize  the  ground  wherever  it  growa 


-,■  I 


846 


IN    ODD    ALARM. 


As  Busil  pasBed  on,  he  noti.  ° ".  that  many  of  the 
trees  were  completely  "barked,"  particularly  on  the 
branches ;  and  small  pieces  of  the  bark  lay  scattered 
over  the  ground,  as  though  it  had  been  peeled  off  and 
gnawed  by  some  animal.  He  was  walking  quietly  on, 
and  thinking  what  creature  could  have  made  such  a 
wreck,  when  he  came  to  a  place  where  th*  ground  waa 
sovered  with  fine  sand  or  dust.  In  this,  to  hi^  aston< 
ishment,  he  observed  what  he  supposed  to  be  the 
tracks  of  human  feet  They  were  not  those  of  a  man, 
but  small  tracks  resembling  the  footsteps  of  a  child 
of  three  or  four  years  of  age.  He  was  about  stooping 
down  to  examine  them  more  closely,  when  a  voice 
sounded  in  his  ears  exactly  like  the  cry  of  a  child. 
This  brought  him  suddenly  to  an  erect  attitude  again, 
and  he  looked  all  r»'  Mid  to  discover  who  or  what  had 
uttered  that  strange  cry.  He  could  see  no  one  —  child 
or  man  —  and  strange,  too,  for  he  had  a  clear  view 
through  the  tree-trunks  for  several  hundred  yards 
around.  He  was  filled  with  curiosity,  not  unmixed 
with  alarm ;  and,  stepping  forwa'^d  a  few  paces,  he  waa 
about  to  bend  down  and  examine  the  tracks  a  second 
time,  when  the  singular  cry  again  startled  him.  This 
time  it  was  louder  than  beforr,  as  if  he  was  closer  to 
whatever  had  uttered  it ;  but  Basil  now  perceived 
diat  it  proceeded  from  above  him.  The  creature  from 
which  it  came  was  certainly  not  upon  tl  e  ground,  but 
high  up  among  the  tops  of  the  trees.  He  looked  up, 
and  there,  in  the  fork  of  one  of  the  pines,  he  perceived 
B  singular  and  hideous-iooking  animal,  such  as  he  had 
uever  before  seen.  It  was  of  a  brown  color,  about 
the  size  of  a  terrier-dog,  with  thick,  shaggy  hair,  and 


▲N   ODD    ALAEM. 


247 


cTumfiud  up  in  the  fork  of  the  tree,  so  that  its  head  tvod 
feet  were  scarcely  distinguishable.  Its  odd  appear 
ance,  as  well  as  the  peculiar  cry  which  it  had  uttered, 
would  have  alarmed  many  a  one  of  less  courage  than 
our  young  hunter,  and  Basil  was  at  first,  as  he  after- 
wards confessed,  "  slightly  flurried ; "  but  a  moment's 
reflection  told  him  what  the  animal  was — one  of  the 
most  innocent  and  inoffensive  of  God's  creatures  — 
the  Canada  porcupine.  It  was  this,  then,  that  had 
barked  the  scrub  pines  —  for  they  are  its  favorite 
food ;  and  it  was  its  track  —  which  in  reality  very 
much  resembles  that  of  a  child — that  B<jsii  had  seen 
in  the  sand. 

The  first  thou^t  of  the  young  hunter  was  to  throw 
up  his  rifle,  and  send  a  bullet  through  the  ungainly 
animal ;  \.  hich,  instead  of  making  any  effort  to  escape, 
remained  almost  motionless,  uttering,  at  intervals,  its 
child-like  screams.  Basil,  however,  reflected  that  the 
report  of  his  rifle  would  frighten  any  large  game  that 
might  chance  to  be  near ;  and  as  the  porcupine  was 
hardly  worth  a  shot,  he  concluded,  upon  reflection,  it 
would  be  better  to  leave  it  alone.  He  knew  —  for  be 
had  hear4  Lucien  say  so  —  that  he  would  find  the  por- 
cupine at  any  time,  were  it  a  week,  or  even  a  month 
after,  for  these  creatures  remain  sometimes  a  whole 
winter  in  the  same  grove.  He  resolved,  therefore, 
shniild  no  other  game  tuin  uM;  to  return  for  it ;  and, 
i^houlderiiig  his  rifle  again,  he  continued  his  course 
through  the  woods. 

As  he  proceeded,  the  timber  became  thinner.  The 
B(',rub-pines  gave  place  to  poplar-trees,  with  here  and 
tl»Are  an  undergrowth  of  willows.    The  trees  Htood  far 


us 


AN    ODD   ALAB». 


apart,  and  the  willows  grew  mlj  in  clumps  oi 
"  islands,"  so  that  the  view  was  nearly  o^cn  for  inan^ 
hundred  yards  around.  Basil  walked  «.  with  all  the 
silence  and  watchfulness  of  a  true  "stnil"  hunter  — 
for,  among  backwoodsmen,  this  species  of  hunting  is 
00  called.  He  ascended  a  low  hill,  and  keeping  a  tiee 
in  front  of  himj  looked  cautiously  over  its  crest.  Be- 
fore him,  and  stretching  from  the  botU^m  of  thu  hill, 
was  a  level  tract  of  considerable  extent.  It  was 
bounded  on  one  side  by  the  edge  of  the  lake,  and  on 
all  the  others  by  thin  woods,  similar  to  those  ^rough 
which  the  hunter  had  been  for  some  time  trav^  lling. 
Here  and  there,  over  the  plain,  there  stood  tree?,  far 
apait  from  each  other,  and  in  no  wise  intercepting  the 
view  for  a  mile  or  more.  Tlie  groun(f  was  clear  of 
underwood,  except  along  the  immediate  edge  of  (he 
lake,  which  was  fringed  by  a  thicket  of  willows. 

As  Basil  looked  over  the  hill,  he  espied  a  small 
group  of  animals  near  the  interior  border  of  the  wil- 
lows. He  had  never  seen  animals  of  the  same  species 
before,  but  the  genus  was  easily  told.  The  tall  ant- 
lered  horns,  that  rose  upon  the  head  of  one  of  them, 
showed  that  they  were  deer  of  some  kind ;  and  the 
immense  size  of  the  creature  that  bore  them,  together 
with  hi^  J  igainly  form,  his  long  legs,  and  ass-like  ears, 
bis  huge  bead  with  its  overhanging  lip,  his  short  neck 
with  its  standing  mane,  and,  above  all,  the  broad  pal- 
ination  of  the  horns  themselves,  left  Basil  without  any 
doubt  upon  his  mind  that  the  animals  before  him  were 
moose-deer — the  largest,  and  perhaps  the  most  awk- 
ward, of  all  the  deer  kind.  The  one  with  the  antlem 
Vfts  the  male  or  bull-moose.    The  others  were  tlie 


AN   ODD  ALABM. 


219 


\ 


Teihule  and  hei  ttro  calves  of  the  preceding  year 
The  latter  were  still  but  half-grown,  and,  like  the 
female,  were  without  the  "  branching  horns "  that 
adorned  the  head  of  the  old  bull.  They  were  all  of 
a  dark-brown  color  —  looking  blackish  in  the  distance 
•—but  the  large  one  was  darker  than  a,ny  of  the 
Others. 

Basil's  heirt  beat  high,  for  he  had  often  heard  of  the 
great  moose,  but  now  saw  it  for  the  first  time.  In  his 
own  country  it  is  not  found,  as  it  is  peculiarly  a  crea- 
ture of  the  cold  regions,  and  ranges  no  farther  to  the 
south  than  the  northern  edge  of  the  United  States 
territory.  To  the  north  it  is  m6t  with  as  far  as  timber 
grows  —  even  to  the  shores  of  the  Polar  Sea !  Nat- 
uralists are  not  certain,  whether  or  not  it  be  the  same 
animal  with  the  elk  {Cervus  alces)  of  Europe.  Cer- 
tainly the  two  are  but  litile,  if  any  thing,  different ; 
but  the  name  "elk"  has  been  given  in  America  to 
quite  another  and  smaller  species  of  deer  —  the  wapiti 
'(  Gervus  Canadensis).  The  moose  takes  its  name  from 
its  Indian  appellation,  "moosoS,"  or  "wood-eater;'* 
and  tins  name  is  very  appropriate,  as  the  animal  lives 
tnostly  upon  the  leaves  and  twigs  of  trees.  In  fact, 
its  structure  —  like  that  of  the  camelopard  —  is  such 
that  it  finds  great  difficulty  in  reaching  grassy  or  any 
other  herbage,  except  where  the  latter  chances  to  be 
very  tall,  or  grows  upon  the  declivity  of  a  very  steep 
hill.  When  it  wishes  to  feed  upon  grass,  the  moose 
usually  seeks  it  in  such  situations ;  and  it  may  often 
be  seen  browsing  up  the  side  of  a  hill,  with  its  legs 
epread  widely  on  both  sides  of  its  neck.  But  its 
favorite  food  is  fcund  at  a  more  convenient  height,  and 


150 


AN   ODD   ALARM. 


I    I 


^: 


'•^ ' 


fx>nsists  of  the  young  shoots  of  manj  epecies  jf  trees- 
It  prefers  those  of  the  poplar,  fhe  birch-tree,  and 
willows,  and  one  kind  of  these  last,  the  red  willow^  is 
its  particular  favorite.  The  "  striped  "  maple  {Acer 
striatum)  is  also  much  relished  by  the  moose  —  hence 
the  name  "  moose-wood,"  by  which  this  tree  is  known 
among  the  hunters.  It  loves  also  the  common  water- 
lil:  3s  {Nymph<B) ;  and  in  summer  it  may  be  seen 
wading  o<it  into  lakes,  and  plucking  up  their  succulent 
leaves.  It  takes  to  the  water  also  for  other  purpases 
—  to  cool  its  body,  and  rid  itself  of  several  species  of 
gnats  and  mosquitoes  that  at  this  season  torment  it 
exceedingly.  At  such  timcb  it  is  more  easily  ap- 
proached ;  and  the  Indians  hunt  it  in  their  canoes,  and 
kill  it  in  the  water,  both  with  spears  and  arrows. 
They  never  find  the  moose,  however,  in  large  num- 
bers —  for  it  is  a  solitary  animal,  and  only  associates 
in  pairs  during  one  part  of  the  year,  and  in  families  at 
another  season  —  as  Basil  now  found  it  In  winter 
tlie  Indians  track  it  through  the  snow,  following  it 
upon  snow-shoes.  These  give  them  the  advantage  of 
skimming  along  the  surface,  while  the  moose  plunges 
through  the  deep  drift,  and  is  therefore  impeded  in  its 
night.  Notwithstanding,  it  will  frequently  escape  from 
the  hunter,  after  a  chase  of  several  days*  duration,  I 
Sometimes,  in  deep  snow,  a  dozen  or  more  of  these 
»ninMils  will  be  found  in  one  place,  where  they  have 
gut  accidentally  together.  The  snow  will  be  trodden 
down  until  the  place  appears  as  if  enclosed  by  a  wall. 
This  the  hunters  term  a  "moose-pound,"  and  when 
found  in  such  situations  the  moose  are  easily  ap* 
iproached  and  surrounded  —  when  a  general  h(xUu% 


■  I 


AN    ODD   ALARM. 


251 


lakes  pUoe,  in  which  few  or  none  of  the  animals  art 
allowed  to  escape. 

]  have  said  that  Basil's  heart  beat  high  at  the  sight 
of  the  moose.  He  was  very  desirous  of  killing  one 
—  partly  on  account  of  the  novelty  of  the  thing,  and 
partly  because  he  and  his  companions  at  the  camp 
were  anxious  for  a  change  of  diet  Moose-meat  was 
the  ver}  thing ;  and  he  knew  that  if  he  could  return 
to  camp  with  a  few  pieces  of  this  strung  over  his  gun, 
he  would  receive  a  double  welcome.  He  was  well 
aware  that  the  flesh  of  the  moose  was  of  the  most 
savory  and  delicate  kind,  and  that  the  long  pendulous 
upper  lip  is  one  of  the  "  titbits  "  of  the  fur  countries. 
Moreover,  the  fine  hide  would  be  an  acceptable  addi 
tion  to  their  stock,  as  it  is  the  best  of  all  deer-skins  for 
moccasons,  as  well  as  snow-shoes  —  articles  which 
Basil  knew  would  soon  be  needed.  For  these  reasons 
he  was  unusually  desirous  of  killing  one  of  the  moose. 

He  knew  it  would  ue  difficult  to  approach  them. 
He  had  heard  that  they  were  shyest  at  that  very 
season  —  the  beginning  of  winter  —  and  indeed  such 
is  the  case.  No  deer  is  so  difficult  to  get  a  shot  at  as 
a  moose  in  early  winter.  In  summer  it  is  not  so  —  as 
then  the  mosquitoes  torment  these  animals  to  such  a 
degree  that  they  pay  less  heed  to  other  enemies,  and 
the  hunter  can  more  easily  approach  them.  In  winter 
they  are  always  on  the  alert.  Their  sense  af  smell  — 
as  well  as  of  sight  and  hearing  —  is  acute  to  an  ex- 
treme degree,  and  they  are  cunning  besides.  They 
can  scent  an  enemy  a  long  distance  off —  if  the  wind 
be  in  their  favor  —  and  the  snapping  of  a  twig,  or  ths 
•lightest  rustle  of  the  leaves,  is  sufficient  to  start  them 


152 


AH   ODD   ALARM. 


i  i 


t 


off.  In  their  jonrneyings  through  the  snow,  wk«u 
they  wish  to  rest  themselves,  thej  make  a  sort  o£ 
detour^  and,  coming  back,  lie  down  near  the  tittck 
which  they  have  already  passed  over.  This  gives 
them  an  opportunity  of  hearing  any  enemy  that  may 
be  following  open  their  traii,  and  also  of  making  off 
in  a  side-direction,  while  the  latter  will  be  looking 
fteadfastly  ahead  for  them. 

Basil  had  heard  of  all  these  tricks  of  the  moose  — 
.or  many  an  old  moose  hunter  had  poured  his  tale  into 
Basil's  ear.  He  proceeded,  therefore,  with  all  due 
caution.  lie  first  buried  his  hand  in  his  game-bag, 
and  after  a  little  groping  brought  out  a  downy  feather 
which  had  chanced  to  be  there.  This  he  placed 
lightly  upon  the  muzzle  of  his  rifle,  and  having  gently 
elevated  the  piece  above  his  head,  watched  the  feather. 
After  a  mmnent,  the  breeze  carried  it  off,  and  Basil 
noted  the  direction  it  took.  This  is  called,  in  hunter 
oh  rase,  "  tossing  the  feather,"  and  gave  Basil  the  ex- 
act direct^tim  of  the  wind  — an  important  knowledge  in 
the  present  case.  To  Basil's  gratification  he  saw  that 
it  was  blowing  down  the  lake,  and  nearly  towards  him* 
self.  He  was  not  exactly  to  leeward  of  the  moose ; 
but,  what  was  better  still,  the  willows  that  fringed  the 
lake  were,  for  he  could  see  them  bending  from  the 
deer,  as  the  breeze  blew  freshly.  He  knew  he  could 
easily  get  among  the  willows ;  and  as  they  were  not 
yet  quite  leafless,  and,  moreover,  were  interspeised 
with  tall  reed  grass,  they  formed  a  tolerable  coTev 
under  which  he  might  make  his  approach. 

Without  losing  time,  then,  he  made  foi  the  wUlow% 


■ 


. 


1,1 


Air  ODD   ALARM. 


258 


And  placiug  them  between  himself  and  the  ^&me  com* 
menced  "  approaching  "  along  the  shore  of  the  lake. 

He  had  a  full  half-hour's  creeping -r- at  ono  tim« 
upon  his  bands  and  knees  —  at  another,  crawling  flat 
upon  his  breast  like  a  gigantic  lizard,  and  now  and 
then,  at  favorable  spots,  walking  in  a  bent  attitude. 
A  full  half-hour  was  he,  and  much  pain  and  patience 
did  it  cost  him,  before  getting  within  shot.  But  Basil 
was  a  hunter,  and  knew  both  how  to  endure  the  pain 
aud  practise  the  patience  —  virtues  that,  in  hunting 
as  well  as  in  many  other  occupations,  usually  meet 
with  their  reward.  And  Basil  was  likely  to  meet 
with  his,  for  on  parting  the  leaves,  and  looking  cau- 
tiously through,  he  saw  that  ho  had  arrived  at  the 
right  spot.  Within  fifty  yards  of  him  he  saw  th« 
high  shoulders  of  the  bull-moose,  and  his  great  fiat 
antlers  towering  over  the  tops  of  the  willows,  among 
the  leaves  of  which  the  snout  of  the  animal  was  bu- 
ried. He  also  caught  a  glimpse  of  parts  of  the  other 
three  beyond ;  but  he  thought  only  of  the  bull,  and  it 
was  upon  him  that  he  kept  his  eyes  fixed.  Basil  did 
not  think  of  the  quality  of  the  meat,  else  he  would 
have  selected  either  the  cow  or  one  of  the  calves. 
Had  it  been  bufialoes  he  would  certainly  have  done  so ; 
but  as  he  had  never  killed  a  moose,  he  was  determined 
to  slay  the  leader  of  the  herd. 

Indeed,  had  he  wished  to  shoot  one  of  the  others, 
it  might  not  have  been  so  easy,  as  they  were  farther 
oil;  and  he  could  only  see  the  tops  of  their  shoulders 
over  the  willows.  Neither  did  the  bull  off^r  a  fair 
mark.    He  stood  face  to  face  with  the  hunter,  ani 


tii 


AM  ODD  ALABM. 


Basil  fancied  that  a  shot  on  the  frontal  bone  might  not 
kill  him.  He  knew  it  would  not  kill  a  buffalo.  There 
was  onlj  one  other  part  at  w  hich  he  could  aim  —  the 
fore-shoulder ;  and  after  waiting  some  moments  for  the 
animal  to  give  him  a  fairer  chance,  he  took  aim  at  this 
and  fired.  He  heard  a  loud  cracking  of  hoofs,  as  the 
cow  and  calves  shambled  off  over  the  plain,  but  he 
taw  that  the  bull  was  not  with  them.  He  was  down 
behincl  the  willows.    No  doubt  he  was  dead. 


«l 


I  I 


'    n 


ill 


Vi' 


:.'! 


BVOOUKTER  WITH  ▲  MOOSK. 


256 


1 


CHAPTER  XXVIL 

ENCOUNTER  WITH  A  MOOSE. 

Wha  7  was  a  rare  thing  for  Basil  to  do,  he  rushed 
forward  without  reloading  his  gun.  A  few  springs 
brought  him  into  the  open  ground,  and  in  presence  of 
the  game.  To  his  astonishment,  the  bull  was  not 
dead,  nor  down  neither,  but  only  upon  his  knees  '— 
of  course  wounded.  Basil  saw  the  ''  crease  "  of  the 
bullet  along  the  neck  of  the  animal  as  he  drew  near. 
It  was  only  by  a  quick  glance  that  he  saw  this,  for  as 
soon  as  the  bull  saw  him  he  rose  to  his  full  height  — 
his  eyes  flashing  like  a  tiger's  —  and  setting  his  ant- 
lers in  a  forward  position,  sprang  upon  the  hunter! 
Basil  leaped  aside  to  avoid  the  encounter ;  &nd  in  the 
first  rush  was  successful,  but  the  animal  turned  sud- 
denly, and,  coming  up  a  second  time,  raised  his  fore* 
feet  high  in  the  air,  and  struck  forward  with  his  long- 
pointed  hoofs.  Basil  attempted  to  defend  hinujelf 
with  his  rifle,  but  the  piece  was  struck  out  of  his 
hand  in  an  instant.  Once  more  avoiding  the  frrward 
rush  of  the  infuriated  beast,  the  young  hunter  looked 
around  for  some  object  to  save  him.  A  tree  fell  under 
his  eye,  and  he  ran  towards  it  with  all  his  speed. 
The  moose  followed  close  upon  his  heels,  and  he  had 
just  time  to  reach  the  tree  and  get  around  its  trunk, 
when  the  animal  brushed  past,  teaiing  the  bark  with  his 


256 


«NCOtJNTER  WITH  A  MOOSK. 


sharp  antlers.  Basil  now  slipped  round  the.  trunk 
and  when  the  moose  again  turned  himsdf  ti.e  two 
were  on  opposite  sides  of  the  tree  1  The  beast,  how 
ever,  rushed  up,  and  struck  the  tree  furiously  first 
with  his  brow  antlers,  and  then  with  his  hoofs,  utter 
ing  loud  snorts,  and  at  intervals  a  shrill  whistling 
sound  that  was  terrible  to  hear.  The  disappointment 
which  the  enraged  animal  felt,  at  seeing  his  enemj 
thus  escape  him,  seemed  to  have  added  to  his  rage ; 
and  be  now  vented  his  spite  upon  the  tree,  until 
the  trunk,  to  the  height  of  six  feet,  was  completely 
stripped  of  its  bark.  While  this  was  going  on,  Basil 
remained  behind  the  tree,  "dodging"  round  as  the 
moose  manoeuvred,  and  taking  care  always  to  have 
the  animal  on  the  opposite  side.  To  have  got  into  a 
safer  situation  he  would  have  climbed  the  tree ;  but 
it  happened  to  be  a  poplar,  without  a  branch  for  many 
feet  from  the  ground,  and  of  too  great  a  girth  to  be 
"embraced."  He  could  do  nothing,  therefore,  but 
remain  upon  the  ground,  and  keep  the  tree-trunk  be- 
tween himself  and  the  bull. 

For  nearly  an  hour  this  lasted,  the  moose  now  re- 
maining at  rest  for  a  few  minutes,  and  then  making 
Wesh  onsets  that  seemed  to  abate  nothing  in  their 
fury.  His  rage  appeared  to  be  implacable,  and  his 
vengeance  as  tenacious  as  that  of  a  tiger  or  any  other 
beast  of  prey.  The  wound  which  the  hunter  had 
given  him  was  no  doubt  painful,  and  kept  his  resent- 
ment from  cooling.  Unfortunately,  it  was  not  a  mortit 
wound,  as  Basil  had  every  opportunity  of  seeing 
The  bullet  had  hit  the  fore-shoulder ;  but,  after  tear 
ing  i^ong  the  skin,  had  gUn^rrf  "ofT  wi^^Aut  injuring 


1 


' 


li   ' 


t.l 


ENCOUNTER    WITH   A    MOOSE. 


t«7 


the  bone.    It  had  only  enraged  the  bull,  without  crip* 
pling  him  \n  the  least  degi*ee.     Basil  began  to  dread 
the  result.     He  was  becoming  faint  with  fatigue  as 
well  as  hunger.    When  would  he  be  relieved  ?    W  hen 
would  the  fierce  brute  feel  inclined  to  leave  him? 
These  were  questions  which  the  hunter  put  to  himself 
repeatedly,  without  being  able  to  divine  an  answer. 
He  had  heard  of  hunters  being  killed  by  wounded 
moose.    He  had  heard  that  these  creatures  will  remain 
for  days  watching  a  person  whom  they  may  have 
"  treed."     He  could  not  stand  it  for  days.     He  would 
drop  down  with  fatigue,  and  then  the  bull  would  gore 
and  trample  him  at  pleasure.     Would  they  be  able  to 
trace  him  from  the  camp  ?     They  would  not  think  of 
that  before  nightfall.     They  would  not  think  of  him 
as  "  lost "  before  that  time ;  and  then  they  could  no; 
follow  his  trail  in  the  darkness,  nor  even  in  the  light 
—  for  the  ground  was  hard  as  a  rock,  and  he  had 
made  no  footmarks.     Marengo  might  trace  him.    The 
dog  had  been  lefl;  at  the  camp,  as  Basil  prbferr(;d 
" still-hunting"  without  him.     But  in  his  present  sh.i- 
ation  the  hunter's  apprehensions  were  stronger  th&n 
his  hopes.     Even  Marengo  might  be  baffled  in  lifting 
the  scent.    The  trail  was  an  exceedingly  devious  one, 
for  Basil  had  meandered  round  the  sides  of  the  hill  in 
search  of  game.     Deer  or  other  animals  might  have 
Binco  crossed  it,  which  might  mislead  the  hound.     It 
would  be  cold  at  night,  and  much  colder  next  mom- 
ing.    There  were  many  chances  that  no  relief  miglU 
reach  him  from  the  camp.     Impressed  with  this  con- 
Tiction,  Basil  began  to  feel  serious  alai'm.    Not  de- 


spair, liowever  —  he  was  not  the  boy  to  despair. 

17 


His 


268 


ENCOUNTER    WITH   A   MOOSE. 


mind  only  grew  more  alive  to  the  necessity  for  actiou. 
lie  looked  around  to  discover  some  means  of  uscape. 
His  gun  lay  not  a  hundred  yards  off.  Could  he  only 
get  hold  of  the  piece,  and  return  safely  to  the  tree 
again,  he  could  there  load  it  and  put  an  end  to  the 
scene  at  once.  But  to  reach  the  gtm  was  impossible. 
The  moose  would  bound  after  and  overtake  him  to  a 
certainty.  The  idea  of  getting  the  gun  was  aban- 
doned. 

In  the  opposite  direction  to  that  in  which  the  gun 
lay,  Basil  perceived  that  there  were  other  trees.  The 
nearest  was  but  a  dozen  yards  from  him ;  and  others, 
again,  grew  at  about  the  same  distance  from  that  one, 
and  from  each  other.  Basil  now  conceived  the  idea 
of  escaping  to  the  nearest,  and  from  that  to  the  next, 
and  by  this  means  getting  back  into  the  thick  forest. 
Once  there,  he  believed  that  he  would  be  the  berter 
able  to  effect  his  escape,  and  perhaps  reach  the  camp 
by  dodging  from  tree  to  tree.  He  could  beat  the 
mooso  for  a  dozeu  yards  —  getting  a  little  the  start  of 
him  —  and  this  he  hoped  to  be  able  to  do.  Should  he 
fail  in  his  short  race,  however — should  his  foot  slip 
—  the  alternative  was  fearful.  It  was  no  other  than 
death/ 

He  knew  that,  but  it  did  not  change  his  resolution 
to  make  the  attempt.  He  only  waited  for  the  animal 
to  work  round  between  him  and  the  tree  towards  which 
he  intended  to  run.  You  will  wonder  that  he  did  not 
prefer  to  have  the  moose  on  the  other  side.  But  he 
did  not,  for  this  reason  —  had  the  bull  been  tnere,  he 
could  have  sprung  af\er  him  at  the  first  start ;  whereas, 
when  heading  the  other  way,  Basil  believed  he  could 


ENCOUNTER    WITH   A    U008E. 


k 


109 


brush  clo8e  pnst,  and  gain  an  advantage,  as  the  un< 
wieldy  brute,  taken  by  surprise,  would  require  some 
time  in  turning  himself  to  give  chase. 

The  opportunity  at  length  arrived;  and  nerving 
himself  for  the  race,  the  hunter  sprang  past  the  moose, 
brushing  the  very  tips  ol"  its  antlers.  He  ran  without 
either  stopping  or  even  looking  back,  until  he  had 
reached  the  tree,  and  sheltered  himself  behind  itc 
trunk.  The  moose  had  followed,  and  arrived  but  the 
raomei  t  after,  snorting  and  whistling  furiously.  En- 
raged at  the  rme,  it  attacked  this  tree,  as  it  had  the 
other,  with  hoof  and  horns ;  and  Basil  nimbly  evaded 
both  by  keeping  on  the  opposite  side,  as  before. 

In  a  few  minutes  he  prepared  himself  for  a  second 
rush,  and  once  more  started.  A  third  tree  was 
reached  in  safety  —  and  then  a  fourth,  and  a  fifth,  and 
many  others,  in  a  similar  manner  —  the  moose  all  the 
while  following  in  hot  pursuit.  Basil  had  begun  to 
hope  that  in  this  way  he  would  get  off,  when,  to  hia 
chagrir.,  he  saw  that  an  open  space  still  intervened 
between  him  and  the  thick  woods,  upon  which  there 
were  only  a  few  trees,  and  those  so  small  that  not  one 
of  them  would  have  sheltered  him.  This  tract  waa 
full  two  hundred  yards  in  width,  and  extended  all 
along  the  edge  of  the  thick  forest.  He  dared  not  cross 
it.  The  moose  would  overtake  him  before  he  could 
get  half  the  way ;  and  he  was  obliged  to  give  up  the 
idea  of  making  the  attempt. 

As  he  stood  behind  the  last  tree  he  had  reached,  he 
saw  that  it  branched,  and  the  lowest  branches  grew 
but  a  little  above  his  head.  He  could  easily  climb  it, 
and  at  once  resolved  to  do  no.    He  would  there  be 


I» 


260 


ENCOUNTER    WITH   A   MOOSE. 


Bafe  for  the  time,  and  could  at  least  rest  himself,  for 
he  was  now  weak  with  fatigue.  He,  thereforo, 
stretched  up  his  hands,  and,  laying  hold  of  a  branch, 
sw'ing  himself  up  into  the  tree.  Then  climbing  up  s 
little  higher,  he  sat  down  on  one  of  the  forks. 

The  moose  appeared  as  furious  as  ever ;  and  ran 
round  the  tree,  now  striking  it  with  his  horns,  and  then 
rearing  upon  his  hind-legs,  and  pouncing  against  the 
trunk  with  his  hoofs.  At  times  his  snoul  was  so  close 
to  Basil,  that  the  latter  could  almost  touch  it ;  and  he 
had  even  drawn  his  hunting-knife,  and  reached  down 
with  the  intent  of  giving  the  creature  a  stab. 

This  last  action  led  to  a  train  of  thought,  and  Basil 
seemed  suddenly  to  adopt  some  new  resolution.  Leav- 
ing the  fork  where  he  had  perched  himself,  he  climbed 
higher  up  the  tree ;  and,  selecting  one  of  the  longest 
and  straightest  branches,  commenced  cutting  it  off  close 
to  the  trunk.  Tliis  was  soon  effected ;  and  then, 
drawing  it  along  his  knee,  he  trimmdd  off  all  the  twigs 
and  tops  until  the  branch  became  a  straight  pole,  like 
a  spear-handle.  Along  one  end  of  this  he  laid  the 
handle  of  his  knife ;  and  with  thongs,  which  he  had 
already  cut  out  of  the  strap  of  his  bullet-pouch,  he 
spliced  the  knife  and  pole  together.  This  gave  him  a 
formidable  weapon  —  for  the  knife  was  a  "  bowie,"  and 
had  a  long  blade,  with  a  point  like-  a  rapier.  He  was 
not  slow  in  using  it.  Descending  again  to  the  lowor- 
mest  limbs,  he  commenced  making  demonstrations,  in 
onifti"  10  bring  the  moose  within  reach.  This  he  very 
soon  succeeded  in  doing ;  and  the  animal  ran  forward 
and  reared  up  against  the  tree.  Before  it  could  ge*. 
upon  its  four  legs  again,  Basil  had  thrust  it  in  the  neck, 


'A, 


ENCOUNTER   WITH    A.   M003&. 


2ti 


givin^^  full  force  to  the  blow.  The  blood  rushed  forth 
in  a  thi(;k  stream,  as  the  jugular  vein  had  beeiv  cut  by 
the  keen  bladt  ,•  and  the  huge  brute  was  seen  to  totter 
ic  its  steps,  and  then  fall  with  a  dull  hea  '  sound  to 
the  eai*th.  In  a  few  moments  the  hunter  li^d  the  sat- 
isfaction of  perceiving  that  it  was  quite  dead. 

Basil  now  dropped  out  of  the  tree,  and  walking 
back  to  where  his  ritie  lay,  took  up  the  piece  and 
carefully  reloaded  it.  He  thcsn  returned  to  the  moose, 
and  opening  the  great  jaws  of  the  animal,  gaged  them 
with  a  stick.  He  next  unspliced  his  knife,  took  off 
the  gristly  lips,  and  cut  out  the  tongue.  These  he 
placed  in  his  game-bag,  and  shouldering  his  rifle,  was 
about  to  depart ;  when  some  new  idea  caused  him  to 
halt,  put  down  his  gun,  and  again  unsheathe  his  knife. 
Once  more  approaching  the  carcass,  he  made  an  incis- 
ion near  the  kidneys ;  and  having  inserted  his  hand, 
drew  forth  what  appeared  to  be  a  part  of  the  intes- 
tines. It  was  the  bladder.  He  then  looked  around 
as  if  in  search  of  something.  Presently  his  eye 
rested  upon  some  tall  reed-grass  that  was  growing 
near.  This  was  just  what  he  wanted,  and,  pulling  up 
one  of  the  stems,  he  cut  and  fashioned  it  into  a  pipe. 
With  this  the  moose-bladder  was  blown  out  to  its  full 
dimensions,  and  tied  at  the  neck  by  a  piece  of  thong. 
The  other  end  of  the  thong  was  fastened  to  one  of  the 
branches  of  the  tree  abo.ve,  so  that  the  bladder  dan- 
gled within  a  few  feet  of  the  carcass  of  the  moose, 
dancing  about  with  the  lightest  breath  of  wind.  All 
these  precautions  Basil  had  taken  to  kt^ep  the  wolves 
from  devouring  the  moose  —  for  it  was  his  intention 
to  return  and  butcher  it,  as  soon  as  he  could  get  h'ilp 


I 


wt 


262 


ENCOUNTER   WITH   A   MOOSE. 


'^f- 


f- 


When  he  had  hung  the  bladder  to  his  liking,  he  put 
up  his  knife  again ;  and,  once  more  shouldering  his 
rifle,  walked  oflf. 

On  reaching  tlie  camp  —  which  he  did  shortly  aiiel 
—  the  tongue  of  the  moose  was  broiled  without  delay, 
and,  after  making  a  delicious  meal  of  it,  the  whole 
party  went  off  for  the  remainder  of  the  meat.  They 
found  it  all  quite  safe  ;  although,  had  it  not  been  for 
the  bladder,  not  much  of  it  would  have  been  there  — 
as  no  less  than  a  dozen  great  gaunt  wolves  were  seen 
lurking  about,  and  these  would  have  eaten  it  up  in 
the  shortest  possible  time.  The  bladder,  however, 
had  kept  them  off;  for,  strange  to  say,  these  creatures, 
who  are  as  cunning  as  foxes,  and  can  hardly  be 
trapped,  can  yet  be  deceived  and  frightened  by  such 
a  simple  thing  as  a  bladder  dangling  from  a  branch. 

The  moose  proved  to  be  one  of  the  largest  of  his 
kind.  His  height  was  quite  equal  to  that  of  a  horse ; 
and  his  horns,  flattened  out  to  the  breadtli  of  shovels, 
weighed  over  sixty  pounds.  His  carcass  was  not  less 
than  fifteen  hundn  d  pounds  weight ;  and  our  voya- 
geurs  had  to  make  two  journeys  to  convey  the  meat 
to  their  camp.  On  the  last  journey,  Franyois  brought 
the  porcupine  as  well  —  having  found  it  ^n  the  verf 
same  tree  where  Basil  had  left  it  I 


LIFE  IN   A  1  OO-nCT. 


268 


CHAPTER  XXVm. 
LIFE  IN  A  LOG-HUT. 

The  Iog>hut  was  finished  on  the  1st  of  Septemberi 
•nd  not  a  day  too  soon ;  for  on  that  very  day  the 
winter  set  in  with  full  severity.  A  heavy  fall  J>f 
•.iow  came  down  in  the  night;  and  nest  morning, 
when  our  voyageurs  looked  abroad,  the  ground  was 
covered  to  the  depth  of  a  foot,  or  more ;  and  the  ice 
upon  the  lake  was  also  white.  "Walking  through  the 
great  wreaths  now  became  very  difficult ;  and  the 
next  thing  to  be  done  was  the  making  of  "  snow- 
shoes." 

Snow-shoes  are  an  invention  of  the  Indians ;  and, 
in  the  winter  of  the  Arctic  regions  of  America,  are 
an  article  almost  as  indispensable  as  clothing  itself. 
Without  them,  travelling  afoot  would  be  impossible. 
In  these  countries,  as  already  stated,  the  snow  often 
covers  the  ground  to  the  depth  of  many  feet;  and 
remains  without  any  considerable  diminution  for  six, 
and,  in  some  years,  eight  or  nine  months.  At  times, 
it  is  frozen  hard  enough  on  the  surface  to  bear  a 
man  without  the  snow-shoes ;  but  oftener,  on  account 
of  thaws  and  fresh  falls,  it  becomes  quite  soft,  and  at 
such  times  travelling  over  it  is  both  difficult  and 
dangerous.  To  avoid  both  the  difficulty  and  the 
danger,  thf  Indians  make  use  of  this  very  singular 


r  t 


264 


LIFE   IN    A   LOG-HrT. 


\   I 


\ 


i  \ 


Bort  of  foot-wear  —  called  "snow-shoes"  ly  thn  Eng. 
lish,  and  *'  rackets "  by  the  Canadian  voyageurs. 
They  are  used  by  all  the  Indian  tribes  of  the  Hud- 
son's Bay  territory ;  and  were  it  not  for  them  thes* 
people  would  be  confined  to  one  place  for  monthi 
together,  and  could  not  follow  the  deer  or  other  game 
As  almost  all  savages  are  improvident,  and  non« 
more  so  than  the  North  American  Indians,  wera 
they  prevented  for  a  season  from  going  out  to  hunt, 
whole  tribes  w^ould  starve.  Indeed,  many  Individ uaU 
of  them  perish  with  hunger  as  it  is ;  and  the  life  of 
all  these  Indians  is  nothing  more  than  one  continued 
struggle  for  food  enough  to  sustain  them.  In  sumraei 
they  are  often  in  the  midst  of  plenty ;  slaughtering 
deer  and  buffalo  by  hundreds,  taking  out  only  the 
tongues,  and  recklessly  leaving  the  flesh  to  the 
wolves !  In  winter  the  very  same  Indians  may  be 
seen  without  a  pound  of  meat  in  their  encampment  — 
the  lives  of  themselves  and  their  families  depending 
upon  the  success  of  a  single  day's  hunt ! 

But  let  us  return  to  the  snow-shoes.  Let  us  see 
what  they  are,  and  learn  how  they  are  made. 

Any  boy  who  has  snared  sparrows  in  snow-time, 
has,  no  doubt,  done  so  by  tying  his  snares  upon 
a  hoop  netted  across  with  twine  or  other  small  cord. 
Now,  if  he  will  conceive  his  hoop  bent  into  an  oblong 
shape  —  something  like  what  the  figure  of  a  boat 
turned  on  its  mouth  would  make  in  snow — and  if  he 
will  also  fancy  the  netting  to  consist  of  thongs  of 
twisted  deer-hide  woven  somewhat  closely  together, 
he  will  get  a  very  good  idea  of  an  Indian  ■  uow-shoe. 
It  is  usually  from  three  to  four  feet  long  ')y  about  a 


LIFE   an   A    LOO-HUT. 


2«& 


foot  wide  at  the  middle  patt,  from  which  it  tapers 
gently  to  a  point,  both  at  the  heel  and  toe.  The 
frame,  as  I  have  said,  is  like  the  hoop  of  a  boy's  bird- 
snare.  It  is  made  of  light,  tough  wood,  and,  of  course, 
carefully  bent  and  polished  with  tbe  knife.  The  slen- 
der branches  of  the  "  scrub-pine  "  (Pinus  Banksiana) 
are  esteemed  excellent  for  this  purpose,  as  their  wood 
is  light,  flexible,  and  tough  in  its  fibres.  This  is  also 
a  favorite  tree,  where  it  grows,  to  make  tent-poles, 
canoe-timbers,  and  other  implements  required  by  the 
Indiant)  -,  and  these  people  use  so  much  of  it  for  their 
arrows,  that  it  has  received  from  the  Canadian  voyit- 
geurs  the  name  of  hois  defiiche  (arrow- wood). 

Veil,  then,  the  frame  of  the  snow-shoes  being  bent 
to  its  proper  shape,  two  transverse  bars  are  placed 
across  near  the  middle,  and  several  inches  from  each 
other.  They  are  for  the  foot  to  rest  upon,  as  well  as 
to  give  strength  to  the  whole  structure.  These  being 
made  fast,  the  netting  is  woven  on,  and  extends  over 
the  whole  frame,  with  the  exception  of  a  little  space 
in  front  of  the  bars  where  the  ball  of  the  foot  is  to 
rest.  This  space  is  left  free  of  netting,  in  order  to 
allow  play  to  the  toes  while  walking.  The  mesh- 
work  is  made  of  thongs  usually  cut  from  the  parch- 
ment-skin of  a  deer,  and  twisted.  Sometimes  twisted 
intestines  are  used,  and  the  netting  exactly  resembles 
tliat  seen  in  "  rackets  "  for  ball  play. 

The  snow-shoe,  when  finished,  is  simply  fastened 
upon  the  foot  by  means  of  straps  or  thongs ;  and  a 
pair  of  them  thus  placed,  will  present  a  surface  to 
the  snow  of  nearly  six  square  feet  —  more,  if  re- 
quired, by  making  them  larger.     But  this  is  rnough 


2C6 


LIFE    Ul    A    LOU-HCr. 


i 


to  sustain  the  heaviest  man  upon  the  softest  snow,  and 
an  Indian  thus  "  shod  "  will  skim  orer  the  surface  like 
a  skater. 

The  shoes  used  by  all  tribes  of  Indians  are  not 
alike  in  shape.  There  are  fashions  and  fancies  in  this 
respect.  Some  are  made  —  as  among  the  Chippewa 
Indians  —  with  one  side  of  the  frame  neai'lj  straight ; 
and  these,  of  course,  will  not  do  for  either  foot,  but  are 
**  rights  and  lefts."  Generally,  however,  the  shape  is 
•uch  that  the  snow-shoe  will  fit  either  foot 

The  snow-shoes  having  now  become  a  necessary 
thing,  our  young  voyageurs  set  about  making  a  com* 
plete  set  for  the  whole  party — that  is,  no  less  tha* 
four  pairs.  Norman  was  the  "  shoemaker,"  and  Nor- 
man knew  how.  He  could  splice  the  frames,  and 
work  in  the  netting,  equal  to  an  Indian  squaw.  Of 
course  all  the  others  assisted  him.  Lucien  cut  the 
moose-skin  into  fine  regular  strips ;  Basil  waded  off 
through  the  snow,  and  procured  the  frames  from  the 
wood  of  the  scrub-pine  trees,  wh«ire  he  had  encoun- 
tered the  porcupine;  and  then  he  and  Fran9oi3 
trimmed  them  with  their  knives,  and  sweated  them  in 
the  hot  ashes  until  they  became  dry,  and  ready  for 
the  hands  of  the  "  shoemaker." 

This  work  occupied  them  several  days,  and  then 
each  had  a  pair  of  shoes  fitted  to  his  size  and  weight. 

The  next  consideration  was,  to  lay  in  a  stock  of 
meat.  Th»  moose  had  furnished  them  with  enough 
for  present  use,  but  that  would  not  last  long,  as  there 
was  no  bread  nor  any  thing  else  to  eat  with  it.  Per- 
Bons  in  their  situation  require  a  great  deal  of  meat  to 
sustain  them,  much  more  than  those  who  Uve  in  greal 


MFl   IN    A.   LOG-HUT. 


|.f 


2G7 


titles,  who  iat  a  variety  of  substances,  and  drink  uian^ 
kinds  of  drinks.  The  healthy  voyageur  is  rarely 
without  a  keen  appetite ;  and  meat  by  itself  is  a  food 
that  speedily  digests,  and  makes  way  for  a  fresh  meal 
80  that  the  ration  usually  allowed  to  the  employes  of  the 
fur  companies  would  appear  large  enough  to  supply 
the  table  of  several  families.  For  instance,  in  some 
parts  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  territory,  the  voyageur  \a 
allowed  eight  pounds  of  buffalo-meat  per  diem  1  And 
yet  it  is  all  eaten  by  him,  and  sometimes  deemed 
barely  sufficient.  A  single  deer,  therefore,  or  even  a 
buffalo,  lasts  a  party  of  voyageurs  for  a  very  short 
time,  since  they  have  no  other  substance,  such  as 
bread  or  vegetables,  to  help  it  out.  It  was  necessary, 
then,  that  our  travellers  should  use  all  their  diligence 
in  laying  up  a  stock  of  dried  meat,  before  the  winter 
became  too  cold  for  them  to  hunt.  There  was  another 
consideration  —  their  clothing.  They  all  had  clothing 
sufficient  for  such  weather  as  they  had  yet  experi- 
enced ;  but  that  would  never  do  for  the  winter  of  the 
Great  Slave  Lake,  and  they  knew  it.  Many  deer 
must  be  killed,  and  many  hides  dressed,  before  they 
could  make  a  full  set  of  clothing  for  all,  as  well  a*"  a 
set  of  deer-skin  blankets,  which  would  be  much  needed. 
As  soon  as  the  snow-shoes  were  finished,  therefore, 
Basil  and  Norman  went  out  each  day  upon  long  hunt- 
ing expeditions,  from  which  they  rarely  returned  be- 
fore nightfall.  Sometimes  they  brought  with  them  a 
deer,  of  the  caribou  or  reindeer  species,  and  the 
**  woodland  "  variety,  which  were  plenty  at  this  place 
They  only  carried  to  camp  the  best  pai  ts  with  the 
ikin,  as  the  flesh  of  the  woodland  caribou  is  not  much 


268 


LIFE   IN   A   LOG- HUT. 


! 


esteemed.  It  is  larger  than  the  other  kind  —  th« 
"  Barren  Ground  caribou,"  weighing  about  one  hundi-ed 
and  fifty  pounds ;  but  both  its  venison  and  hide  are  of 
inferior  quality  to  those  of  the  latter  species.     Some- 

'  times  our  hunters  killed  smaller  game ;  and  on  several 
occasions  they  returned  without  having  emptied  their 
guns  at  all.  But  there  was  one  day  that  made  up  for 
several  —  one  grand  day  when  they  were  extremely 
successful,  and  on  which  they  killed  a  whole  herd  of 
moose,  consisting  of  five  individuals  —  the  old  bull,  a 
81  ike  buck  —  that  is,  a  young  buck,  whose  horns  had 
not  yet  got  antlers  upon  them  —  the  cow,  and  two 
calves.  These  they  had  tracked  and  followed  for  a 
long  distance,  and  had  succeeded,  at  length,  in  run- 
ning into  a  valley  where  the  snow  was  exceedingly 
deep,  and  where  the  moose  became  entangled.  There 
had  been  a  shower  of  rain  the  day  before  that  had 
melted  the  surface  of  the  snow ;  and  this  had  again 
frozen  into  an  icy  crust,  upon  which  the  deer  lacer- 
ated their  ankles  at  every^  plunge,  leaving  a  track  of 
blood  behind  them  as  they  ran.  Under  these  cir- 
cumstances they  were  easily  trailed,  and  Basil  and 
Norman,  skimming  along  upon  their  snow-shoes,  soon 
came  up  with  them,  and  shot  first  one  and  then  another, 
until  the  whole  herd  were  stretched  in  the  valley. 
They  then  butchered  them,  and  hung  the  hides  and 
quarters  upon  high  branches,  so  as  to  secure  them 
from  wolves  and  wolverenes.  When  the  job  was  fin- 
ished, the  whole  place  looked  like  a  great  slaughter- 

-  yard !  Next  day  a  rude  sledge  was  constructed  ;  and 
the  voyageurs,  returning  in  full  force,  transported  the 
meat  to  camp      Huge  fires  were  kindled  outside  tk« 


i 


LIFE   IN   A  LOG-HUT. 


269 


hu(,  and  several  days  were  spent  in  cutting  op  and 
drying  the  flesh.  Had  our  travellers  been  certain  that 
the  frost  would  have  continued  all  winter,  this  would 
not  have  been  necessary  —  since  the  meat  was  already 
frozen  as  hard  as  a  brick.  But  they  knew  that  a  sud- 
den thaw  would  spoil  it ;  and,  as  there  was  plenty  of 
good  firewood  on  the  spot,  they  were  not  going  to  run 
iLc  risk  of  losing  it  in  that  way. 

ITiey  had  now  enough  provision  to  last  them  for 
months ;  and  hunting  became  no  longer  necessary,  ex* 
cept  to  obtain  fresh  meat  —  which  was,  of  course, 
pn-ferable  to  the  dry  stock.  Hunting,  also,  gave  them 
exercise  and  amusement  —  both  of  which  were  neces- 
sary to  their  health ;  for  to  remain  idle  and  inactive  in 
a  situation  such  as  that  in  which  they  were  placed  is 
the  worst  possible  plan,  and  is  sure  to  engender  both 
sickness  and  ennui.  Indeed,  the  last  grew  upon  them, 
notwithstanding  all  the  pains  they  took  to  prevent  it. 
There  were  days  on  which  the  cold  was  so  extreme 
that  they  could  not  put  their  noses  out  of  the  door 
without  the  danger  of  having  them  frost-bitten  — 
although  each  had  now  a  complete  suit  of  deer-skin 
clothing,  made  by  Lucien,  the  "  tailor "  of  the  party. 
TTpon  such  days  they  were  fain  to  remain  shut  up  in 
their  hut ;  and,  seated  around  their  huge  log-fire,  they 
passed  the  time  in  cleaning  their  guns,  mending  their 
nets,  stitching  their  clothes,  and  such  like  employ- 
ments. These  days  were  far  from  being  their  dulleit ; 
for,  what  with  the  varied  and  scientific  knowledge  of 
Lucien,  which  he  took  pleasure  in  imparting  to  hia 
companions  —  what  with  the  practical  experience  of 
Norman  amid  scenes  of  Arctic  life,  and  the  many 


: 


270 


LIFE   IJ  A   LOO-HUT. 


•*  voyngetx  tales  "  he  could  tell  — •  what  with  Fran^  i\» 
merry  jdies  and  bon  mots  —  and  what  with  Basil'fl 
talem  for  listening  —  not  the  least  important  element 
in  a  good  conversazione  —  our  quartette  of  young  voy- 
ageurs  found  their  in-door  days  any  thing  but  dull. 

This  was  all  well  enough  for  a  while.  For  a  month 
or  two  they  bore  their  odd  kind  of  life  cheerfully 
enough  ;  but  the  prospect  of  nearly  six  months  more 
of  it  began  to  appall  them,  when  they  reflected  upon 
it,  and  they  soon  found  themselves  longing  for  a 
change.  Hunting  adventures,  that  at  other  times 
would  have  interested  them,  now  occurred  without 
creating  any  excitement ;  and  the  whole  routine  of 
their  employments  seemed  monotonous.  Nearly  all 
of  them  were  boys  of  an  active  character  of  mind ; 
and  most  of  them  were  old  enough  to  reason  about  the 
value  of  time.  Their  idea  of  such  a  long  isolation 
from  civilized  life,  and,  above  all,  the  being  debarred 
from  following  any  useful  pursuit,  began  to  impress 
pome  of  them  forcibly.  Others,  as  Fran9ois,  could 
not  be  contented  for  a  very  great  stretch  of  time  with 
any  sort  of  life ;  so  that  all  of  them  began  to  sigh  for 
a  change. 

=  One  day,  while  conversing  upon  this  theme,  a  bold 
proposal  was  made  by  Basil.  It  was  that  they  should 
**  strike  camp,"  and  continue  their  journey.  This  pro- 
posal took  the  others  by  surprise,  but  they  were  all 
just  in  the  frame  of  mind  to  entertain  and  discuss  it, 
and  a  long  consultation  was  held  upon  the  point. 
Fran9ois  chimed  in  with  the  proposal  at  once ;  while 
Lucien,  more  cautious,  did  not  exactly  (Appose,  but 
Gather  ofiered  the  reasons  that  were  against  it,  and 


LIFE   IK   A.   LO<J-HUT. 


271 


pointed  out  iLe  perils  of  the  undertaking.  Norman^ 
of  course,  was  appealed  to  —  all  of  them  looking  to 
him  as  one  whose  advice,  upon  that  question  at  least, 
«vas  more  valuable  than  their  own. 

Norman  admitted  the  dangers  pointed  out  by  Lu* 
dftu,  but  believed  that  they  might  overcome  them  by 
A  proper  caution.  On  the  whole,  Norman  approved 
of  the  plan,  and  it  was  at  length  adopted.  Perhaps 
Norman's  habitual  prudence  was  to  some  extent  in- 
fluenced on  this  occasion  by  the  very  natural  desire 
he  hud  of  returning  to  what  he  considered  his  home. 
He  had  now  been  absent  nearly  two  years,  and  was 
desirous  of  once  more  seeing  his  father  and  his  old 
companions  at  the  Fort  There  was  another  feeling 
that  influenced  nearly  all  of  them :  that  was  ambition. 
They  knew  that  to  make  such  a  journey  would  be 
something  of  a  feat,  and  they  wished  to  have  the 
credit  of  perlbrming  it.  To  minds  like  that  of  Basil, 
even  the  danger  had  something  attractive  in  it  It 
was  resolved  then  to  break  up  tbe  encampment,  and 
PCiUmue  tkeir  jouniej. 


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Corporation 


23  WIST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  MS80 

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172 


TRAVELLmO    OK    SNOW-SHOSaw 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 


TRAVELLING  ON  SNOW-SHOES 


•    ( 


Osom  their  resolution  was  taken,  they  lost  but  litth 
l!me  in  making  preparations  to  carry  it  out.  Most  of 
the  articles  required  for  such  a  journey  were  already 
m  their  hands.  They  had  the  proper  dresses  —  snow- 
shoes,  skin-blankets,  and  gloves.  They  had  prepared 
for  themselves  sets  of  "  snow-spectacles."  These  were 
made  out  of  red  cedar- wood.  Each  pair  consisted  of 
two  small  thin  pieces,  that  covered  the  eyes,  joined 
together  and  fastened  on  b}'  thongs  of  buckskin.  In 
each  piece  an  oblong  slit  jerved  for  the  eye-hole, 
through  which  the  eye  looked  without  being  dazzled 
by  the  snow.  Without  this,  or  some  like  contrivance, 
travelling  in  the  Arctic  regions  is  painful  to  the  eyes, 
and  the  traveller  often  loses  his  sight.  Indeed,  one 
of  the  most  common  infirmities  of  both  the  Indians 
and  Esquimaux  of  these  parts  is  blindness  or  soreness 
o£  the  eyes,  caused  by  the  reflection  of  the  sunbeams 
from  the  crystals  of  the  frozen  snow.  Norman  was 
aware  of  this,  and  had  made  the  spectacles  to  guard 
agamst  this  peril.  Out  of  their  spare  skins  they  had 
made  a  small  tent.  This  was  to  be  can'ied  along  by 
Marengo  in  a  light  sledge,  which  they  had  long  since 
ccnstructed,  and  taught  the  dog  to  draw.  Notliing 
else  remained  but  to  pack  their  provisions  in  tha 


u 


1.1 


IRAVELLING    ON   SNOW  SHOES. 


'271 


Binallest  bulk  possible,  and  this  was  done^  according 
to  the  custom  of  the  country,  by  making  "  pemmican.'* 
The  dry  meat  was  first  pounded  until  it  became  a 
powder ;  it  was  then  put  into  small  skin  bags,  made 
for  the  purpofie,  and  the  hot  melted  fat  was  poured  in 
and  well  mixed  with  it.  This  soon  froze  hard^  and 
the  mixture  —  •  that  resembled  "  potted  meat "  —  was 
now  ready  for  use,  and  would  keep  for  an  indefinite 
time  without  the  least  danger  of  spoiling.  Buffalo- 
beef,  moose-meat,  or  venison  of  any  sort,  thus  pre- 
pared, is  called  ^^ pemmican"  and  is  more  portable  in 
this  shape  than  any  other.  Besides,  no  further  cook- 
ing is  required  —  an  important  consideration  upon 
those  vast  prairie  deserts,  where  fire-wood  is  seldom 
to  be  procured  without  the  trouble  of  carrying  it  a 
great  distance. 

Norman,  who  was  the  maker  of  the  pemmican,  had 
produced  a  superior  article  upon  this  occasion.  Be- 
sides the  pounded  meat  and  fat,  he  had  mixed  another 
ingredient  with  it,  which  rendered  it  a  most  delicious 
food.  This  third  ingredient  was  a  small  purple-col- 
ored berry  —  of  which  we  have  already  spoken  —  not 
unlike  the  whortleberry,  but  sweeter  and  of  a  highef 
flavor.  It  grows  through  most  of  the  northern  regions 
of  America ;  and  in  some  places,  as  upon  the  Red 
Oliver  and  the  Elk,  the  bushes  that  produce  it  are 
seen  in  great  plenty.  When  in  flower,  they  appear 
almost  white,  so  thickly  are  they  covered  with  blos- 
soms The  leaves  are  small,  and  generally  of  an  oval 
shape;  but  there  are  several  varieties  of  the  bush, 
some  of  them  having  the  dimensions  and  form  of 
Ireoe,  of  twenty-five  feet  in  height.  The  berries  hft?« 
18  ' 


I- 


274 


TBAVELLING    ON   SKOW-SHOEB. 


recei>'ed  different  names  in  different  parts  of  Americib 
They  are  known  as  "shad-berries,"  "June-berries,*' 
"service-berries,"  and  by  the  Canadian  voyageuM 
they  are  called  "le  poire."  Even  the  botanists  have 
given  them  a  great  variety  of  names,  as  pyrut^  mespi* 
lus,  aroniaj  cratcBgus,  and  amelanchier.  No  matt^ 
which  may  be  the  best  name,  it  is  enough  to  know 
that  these  little  berries  are  delicious  to  eat  when  fresh, 
and  whBn  dried,  after  the  manner  of  currants,  are 
excellent  to  mix  in  puddings,  as  well  as  in  peicmican4 

Previous  to  the  setting  in  of  winter,  our  voyageurs 
had  collected  a  large  bag-full  upon  the  banks  of  the 
Elk,  which  they  had  dried  and  stored  away—  expects 
ing  to  stand  in  need  of  them  for  this  very  purpose. 
They  now  came  into  use,  and  enabled  Norman  to 
make  his  pemmican  of  the  very  choicest  quality. 
Five  bags  of  it  were  put  up,  each  weighing  over 
thirty  pounds.  One  of  these  was  to  be  drawn  upon 
the  sledge,  along  with  the  tent,  the  axe,  and  a  few 
other  articles.  The  rest  were  to  be  carried  by  the 
voyageurs  themselves  —  each  shouldering  one,  which, 
along  with  their  guns  and  accoutrements,  would  be 
load  enough. 

These  arrangements  being  at  length  complete,  tbe 
party  bade  adieu  to  their  log-hut  —  gave  a  partiijg  l:<ok 
to  their  little  canoe,  which  still  rested  by  the  door— « 
aitd  then,  shouldering  their  guns  and  bags  of  pemmi- 
can, set  out  over  the  frozen  surface  of  the  snow. 

Of  course  before  starting  they  had  decided  upon  the 
foute  they  were  to  take.  This  decision,  however,  had 
40t  been  arrived  at  until  after  much  discussion.  Lu« 
c»en  advised  that  they  should  fclk>w  the  shore  of  the 


I! 


rRAVELLlNO    ON   SNOW-SHOES. 


273 


lake  until  they  should  reach  the  Ma<^^izie  River  — 
which  of  course  was  now  frozen  up.  its  channel,  be 
argued,  would  then  guide  them;  and,  in  case  their 
provisions  should  run  short,  they  would  be  more  likely 
to  find  game  upon  its  banks  than  elsewhere,  as  these 
were  wooded  almost  to  the  sea — in  consequence  of 
hs  head  waters  rising  in  southern  latitudes,  and  carry- 
ing with  them  a  warmer  dimate. 

There  was  plausibility  in  Lucien's  argument,  com- 
bined with  much  prudence.  Norman,  however,  ad- 
vised a  contrary  course.  He  said  that  they  would 
have  to  make  a  considerable  journey  westward  before 
reaching  the  place  where  the  Mackenzie  River  flows 
out  of  the  lake;  and,  moreover,  he  knew  that  the 
river  itself  was  very  crooked  —  in  some  places  wind- 
ing about  in  great  curves,  whose  ends  come  near 
meeting  each  other.  Should  iixey  keep  the  course  of 
the  river,  Norman  believed  it  would  almost  double 
their  journey.  A  much  shorter  route,  he  said,  would 
be  obtained  by  striking  across  the  country  in  a  north- 
westerly direction,  so  as  to  reach  the  Mackenzie  near 
where  another  great  stream  —  the  River  of  the  Moun- 
tains—  empties  into  it  from  the  west  This  would 
certainly  be  a  more  direct  route,  and  they  would 
avoid  the  windings  of  the  river  channel. 

Norman's  reasoning  prevailed.  Basil  and  Fran- 
9ois  readily  agreed  to  his  plan,  and  Lucien  at  length 
also  gave  his  assent,  but  with  some  reluctance.  Nor^ 
man  knew  nothing  whatever  of  the  route  he  was 
advising  them  to  take.  His  former  journeys  up  and 
down  the  Mackenzie  had  been  made  in  summer,  and 
of  course  he  had  travelled  by  canoe,  in  company  with 


/i 


\ 


I     ■ 


276 


TRATELLINQ    ON   SNOW-SnOES 


the  (rodent  and  voyageurs.  He  only  knew  that  to 
strike  across  the  country  would  be  the  shorter  way 
But  "  the  shortest  way  is  not  always  the  nearest,"* 
says  the  proverb ;  and  although  Lucien  remembered 
this  prudent  maxim,  the  others  did  not  give  it  a 
thought.  Before  the  end  of  their  journey  they  r& 
ceived  a  practical  lesson  of  its  wisdom  —  a  lessoo 
they  were  not  likely  to  forget.  But  they  knew  not 
what  was  before  them,  and  they  started  o£f  in  high 
spirits.  ^  '        '*. 

Their  first  three  or  four  days'  journeys  were  with- 
out any  event  worth  being  chronicled.  They  trav- 
elled fiill  twenty  miles  each  day.  The  Southerners 
had  become  quite  skilful  in  the  management  of  their 
snow-shoes,  and  they  skimmed  along  upon  the  icy 
crust  at  the  tate  of  three  or  four  miles  an  hour 
Marengo  and  his  sledge  gave  them  very  little  trouble 
There  was  full  sixty  pjunds  weight  upon  it ;  but  to 
the  huge  dog  this  was  a  mere  bagatelle,  and  he  pulled 
it  afler  him  without  any  great  strain.  His  harness 
was  neatly  made  of  moose-skin,  and  consisted  of  a 
collar  with  a  back  strap  and  traces — the  traces  meet- 
ing behind,  where  they  were  attached  to  the  head  of 
the  sledge.  No  head-gear  was  necessary,  as  Maren 
go  needed  not  to  be  either  led  or  driven.  The  sledge 
consisted  of  two  or  three  light  planks  of  smooth 
wood,  laid  alongside  each  other,  and  held  together 
by  transverse  bands.  In  front  it  turned  up  with  a 
circular  sweep,  so  as  not  to  "  plough  "  the  snow ;  and 
at  the  top  of  this  curved  part  the  traces  were  adjusted. 
The  load  was,  of  course,  carefully  packed  and  tied,  so 
that  the  overtunung  of  the  vehicle  did  no  damiigt 


TRATELLINO   017   SNOW-SHOES. 


277 


irhalever  and  it  could  be  easily  righted  again.  Mac 
rengo  required  no  one  to  guide  him,  but  followed 
quietlj  in  the  tracks  of  the  snow-shoes,  and  thus 
avoided  the  trees,  rocks,  and  other  inequalities.  If  a 
rabbit  or  other  creature  started  up,  Marengo  knew 
better  than  to  go  galloping  after  it ;  he  felt  that  he 
bad  a  more  important  duty  to  perform  than  to  throw 
away  his  time  upon  rabbit-hunting.  Each  night  a 
spot  was  chosen  for  the  camp  by  the  side  of  some 
lake  or  stream,  where  wood  could  be  obtained  for 
their  fire.  Water  was  got  by  breaking  a  hole  in  the 
ice,  and  the  little  tent  was  always  set  up  in  a  shel- 
tered situation. 

Upon  the  fifth  day  after  leaving  the  log-hut  the 
woods  began  to  grow  thinner  and  more  straggling; 
and  towards  night  of  the  same  day  they  found  them- 
selves travelling  through  a  country,  where  the  timber 
only  grew  here  and  there  in  small  clumps,  and  the  in- 
dividual trees  were  small  and  stunted.  Next  day  still 
less  timber  was  seen  upon  their  route;  and  when 
camping-time  came,  they  were  obliged  to  halt  at  a 
spot  where  nothing  but  willows  could  be  procured  for 
their  fire.  They  had,  in  fact,  ari'ived  upon  the  edge 
of  that  vast  wilderness,  the  Barren  Grounds,  which 
stretches  in  all  its  wild  desolation  along  the  northern 
half  of  the  American  continent  (from  the  Great  Slave 
Lake  even  to  the  shores  of  the  Arctic  Sea  on  the 
north,  and  to  those  of  Hudson's  Bay  on  the  east). 
This  territory  bears  an  appropriate  name,  for,  per- 
haps, upon  the  whole  surface  of  the  earth  there  is  no 
tract  more  barren  or  desolate — not  even  the  Saara 
of  Africa.      Both  are  deserts  of  immense  extent^ 


278 


TRAVELLING   ON   8NOW-8HOE8. 


equally  di£Scult  to  cross,  and  equally  dangerous  to  tlie 
traveller.  On  both  the  traveller  often  perishes,  but 
from  different  causes.  On  the  Sa&ra  it  is  thirst  that 
kills ;  upon  the  Barren  Grounds  hunger  is  more  fre- 
quently the  destroyer.  In  the  latter  there  is  but  little 
to  be  feai'ed  on  the  score  of  water.  That  exists  in 
great  plenty ;  or  where  it  is  not  found,  snow  supplieti 
its  place.  But  there  is  water  every  where.  Hill  8uo> 
ceeds  hill,  blet^,  rocky,  and  bare.  Every  where  gran- 
ite, gneiss,  or  other  primitive  rocks,  show  themselves. 
No  vegetation  covers  the  steep  declivities  of  the  hills, 
except  the  moss  and  lichen  upon  the  rocks,  a  few 
willows  upon  the  banks  of  streams,  the  dwarf  birch- 
tree  {Bettda  nana)^  or  the  scrub-pines,  rising  only  to 
the  height  of  a  few  inches,  and  often  straggling  over 
the  earth  like  vines.  Every  hill  has  its  valley,  and 
every  valley  its  lake — dark,  and  deep,  and  silent— 
in  winter  scarce  to  be  distinguished  under  the  snow- 
covered  ice.  The  prospect  in  every  direction  exhibits 
a  surface  of  rocks,  or  bleak  hills,  half  covered  with 
finow.  The  traveller  looks  around  and  sees  no  life* 
He  listens  and  hears  no  f>ound.  The  world  appears 
dead  and  wrapped  in  its  cold  winding-sheet ! 

Amidst  just  such  scenes  did  our  voyageurs  find  them- 
selves on  the  seventh  day  after  parting  from  the  lake. 
They  had  heard  of  the  Barren  Grounds,  —  had  heard 
many  fearful  stories  of  the  sufferings  of  travellers  who 
had  attempted  to  cross  them ;  but  the  description  had 
fallen  far  short  of  the  actual  reality.  None  of  them 
could  believe  in  the  difficulties  to  be  encountered,  and 
the  desolateness  of  the  scene  they  were  to  witness, 
valil  now  thai  they  found  themselves  iii  its  midst | 


1.1 


TBAVELLINO  ON   SNOW-SHOES. 


279 


aud,  aa  they  proceeded  on  their  journey,  getting  far- 
ther and  farther  from  the  wooded  region,  their  appre- 
hensions, already  aroused  by  the  wild  aspect  of  the 
country,  grew  stronger  and  stronger.  They  began  to 
entertain  serious  fears,  for  they  knew  not  how  far  the 
barren  tract  extended  along  their  route.  On  calcu- 
lation they  found  they  had  provisions  enough  to  last 
them  for  a  month.  That  in  some  measure  restored 
their  confidence ;  but  even  then,  they  could  not  help 
giving  way  to  serious  reflections.  Should  they  get 
lost  or  retarded  in  their  course  by  mountains,  or  other 
obstacles,  it  might  take  them  longer  than  a  month  to 
reach  some  place  where  game  was  to  be  met  with. 
Each  day,  as  they  advaoced,  they  found  the  country 
more  hilly  and  difficuii.  Precipices  often  bounded 
the  valleys,  lying  directly  across  their  track ;  and  as 
these  could  not  be  scaled,  it  was  necessary  to  make 
long  detours  to  pass  them,  so  that  some  days  they 
actually  advanced  less  than  five  miles  upon  their 
journey. 

Notwithstanding  these  impediments,  they  might  still 
have  got  over  the  Barren  Grounds  without  farther 
suffering  than  the  fatigue  aar'  necessary  exposure  to 
Qold ;  but  at  this  time  an  incident  occurred,  that  not 
only  frustrated  all  their  cdculations,  but  placed  then 
in  inuniaeat  danger  <ii  perishii^ 


' 


980 


THE   BARREN   GROUNDS. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

0 

THE  BARREN  OROUNIIS. 

1*IIB  Barren  Grounds  are  not  entirely  destitute  of 
animal  life.  Even  in  winter  —  when  they  are  almost 
covered  with  snow,  and  you  would  suppose  that  no 
living  creature  could  procure  subsistence  upon  them 
—  even  then  they  have  their  denizens  ;  and,  strange  to 
say,  there  are  many  animals  that  choose  them  for 
their  home.  There  is  no  part  of  the  earth's  surface 
so  sterile  but  that  some  animated  being  can  find  a  liv- 
ing upon  it,  and  such  a  being  Nature  adapts  to  its  pe- 
culiar situation.  For  instance,  there  are  animals  that 
prefer  the  very  desert  itself,  and  would  not  thrive 
were  you  to  place  them  in  a  country  of  mild  climate 
and  fertile  soil.  In  our  own  species  this  peculiarity  is 
also  found  —  as  the  Esquimaux  would  not  be  happy 
were  you  to  transplant  him  from  his  icy  hut  amidst 
the  snows  of  the  Arctic  regions,  and  give  him  a 
palace  under  the  genial  skies  of  Italy. 

Among  other  creatures  that  remain  all  winter  upon 
the  Barren  Grounds  are  the  wolves.  How  they  exist 
there  is  almost  a  question  of  the  naturalists.  It  is 
true  they  prey  upon  other  animals  found  at  times  in 
the  same  district;  but  wolves  have  been  met  with 
where  not  the  slightest  traces  of  other  living  creaturot 
eould  be  seen  I 


TOE   BARREN   0R0UKD8. 


281 


There  is  no  animal  more  generally  distributed  over 
Iho  eartli's  surface  than  the  wolf.  He  exists  in  nearly 
every  country,  and  most  likely  has  at  one  time  existed 
in  alL  In  America  thern  are  wolves  in  its  three 
cones.  They  are  met  with  from  Cape  Horn  to  the 
farthest  point  northward  that  man  has  reached,  lliey 
nre  common  in  the  tropical  forests  of  Mexico  and 
Booth  America.  They  range  over  the  great  prairies 
of  the  temperate  zones  of  both  divisions  of  the  conti- 
nent, and  in  the  colder  regions  of  the  Hudson's  Bay 
territory  they  are  among  the  best  known  of  wild 
animals.  They  frequent  the  mountains,  they  gallop 
over  the  plains,  they  skulk  through  the  valleys,  they 
dwell  every  where  —  every  where  the  wolf  seems 
equally  at  home.  In  North  America  two  very  dif- 
ferent kinds  are  known.  One  is  the  "prairie"  or 
*^  barking  "  wolf,  which  we  have  already  met  with  and 
described.  The  other  species  is  the  "common"  or 
"  large  "  wolf;  but  it  is  not  decided  among  naturalists 
that  there  are  not  several  distinct  species  of  the  latter. 
At  all  events,  there  are  several  varieties  of  it  —  dis- 
tinguished from  each  other  in  size,  color,  and  even  to 
some  extent  in  form.  The  habits  of  all,  however, 
appear  to  be  similar,  and  it  is  a  question,  whether 
any  of  these  varieties  be  permanent  or  only  accidental. 
Some  of  them,  it  is  well  known,  are  accidental  —  as 
wolves  differing  in  color  have  been  found  in  the  same 
litter  —  but  late  explorers,  of  the  countries  around 
and  be3ond  the  Rocky  Mountains,  have  discovered 
one  or  two  kinds  that  appear  to  be  specifically  distinct 
from  the  common  wolf  of  America  —  one  of  them, 
the  "  dusky  wolf/'  being  much  larger. 


¥ 


182 


THE   BARREN   GROUNDS. 


This  last  is  said  to  resemble  the  wolf  of  Enrope 
(the  Pyrenean  wolf,  Cani$  lupus)  more  than  the 
other  American  wolves  do  —  for  there  is  a  consider* 
able  difference  between  the  wolves  of  the  two  conti* 
ncnts.  Those  of  the  northern  regions  of  America 
bavo  shorter  ears,  a  broader  snout  and  forehead,  and 
are  of  a  stouter  make,  than  the  European  wolv&4. 
Their  fur,  too,  is  finer,  denser,  and  longer ;  their  tails 
more  bushy  and  fox-like ;  and  their  feet  broader. 
The  European  wolf,  on  the  contrary,  is  c^a^scterized 
by  a  gaunt  appearance,  a  pointed  snout,  louj^  jaws, 
high  ears,  long  legs,  and  feet  very  narrow.  It  ?s  pos- 
sible,, notwithstanding  these  points  of  difference,  that 
both  may  be  of  the  same  species,  the  difference  pj'ising 
from  a  want  of  similitude  in  the  circumstances  by 
which  they  are  surrounded.  For  instance,  the  dense 
wool  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  wolf  may  be  accounted  for 
by  the  fact  of  its  colder  habitat,  and  its  broader  feet 
may  be  the  result  of  its  having  to  run  much  upon  the 
surface  of  the  snow.  The  writer  of  this  little  book  be- 
lieves that  this  peculiar  adaptation  of  Nature  —  which 
may  be  observed  in  all  her  kingdoms  —  may  explain 
the  difference  that  exists  between  the  wolves  of  the 
northern  parts  of  America  and  those  of  the  south  of 
Europe.  He  believes,  moreover,  that  those  of  the 
southern  parts  of  the  American  continent  approximate 
more  nearly  to  the  Fyrenean  wolves,  as  he  has  seen 
in  the  tropical  forests  of  Mexico  some  that  possessed  all 
that  ** gaunt"  form  and  "sneaking"  aspect  that  chw- 
acterir.e  the  latter.  It  would  be  interesting  to  inquire 
whether  the  wolves  of  Siberia  and  Lapland,  inhabit' 
ing  a  similar  climate  to  that  of  the  northern  parts  of 


f 


THE   BABREN   OROUKDS. 


AmeH^a,  do  not  possess  the  same  peculiarities  as  thn 
North  American  kind  —  a  point  which  naturalista 
have  not  yet  considered,  and  which  you,  my  boy 
reader,  may  some  day  find  both  amusement  and  in- 
StrurMon  in  determining  for  yourself. 

With  regard  to  color  the  wolves  of  both  contineiilit 
exhibit  many  varieties.  In  North  America  there  are 
more  than  half-a-dozen  colors  of  them,  all  receivinif 
difTurent  names.  There  is  the  "gray  wolf/  the 
•♦  white,"  the  '♦  brown,"  the  «  dusky,"  the  "  pied,"  and 
the  "black."  These  trivial  names  will  give  a  gOv.i 
enough  idea  of  the  colors  of  each  kind,  but  there  are 
even  varieties  in  their  markings.  "  Yellow  "  wolves, 
too,  have  been  seen,  and  "  red "  ones,  and  some  of  a 
"crjam  color."  Of  all  these  the  gray  wolf  is  the 
most  common,  and  is  par  excellence  the  loolf;  but 
there  are  districts  in  which  individuals  of  other  colors 
predominate.  Wolves  purely  black  are  plenty  in 
many  parts,  and  white  wuives  are  oflen  seen  in  large 
packs. 

Even  those  of  the  same  color  differ  in  size,  and  that 
to  a  considerable  extent.  And,  what  is  also  strange, 
large  wolves  will  be  found  in  one  district  of  country, 
while  much  smaller  ones  of  the  game  color  and  gpeeiet 
inhabit  another.  The  largest  in  size  of  American 
wolves  are  about  six  feet  in  length,  the  tail  included ; 
and  about  three  feet  in  height,  measuring  to  the 
tips  of  the  standing  fur.  The  tail  b  usually  about 
one4hird  of  the  whole  length. 

The  habitfi  of  the  American  wolf  are  pretty  mnch 
like  those  of  his  European  cousin.  He  is  a  beast  of 
^roy,  devouring  all  the  smaller  animals  he  can  lay 


r^ 


A 


284 


THE   BA.RREN    JROUNDS. 


11 


I 


hold  of.  He  pursues  and  overtakes  the  deer,  and 
often  runs  down  the  fox  and  makes  a  meal  of  it.  He 
will  kill  and  eat  Indian  dogs,  although  these  are  so 
near  his  own  species  that  the  one  is  often  taken  for 
the  other.  But  this  is  not  all,  for  he  will  even  eat  his 
own  kind,  on  a  pinch.  He  is  as  cunning  as  the  fox 
himself,  and  as  cowardly ;  but  at  times,  when  impelled 
by  hunger,  he  becomes  bolder,  and  has  been  known  to 
attack  man.  Instances  of  this  kind,  however,  aro 
rare.  '        • 

The  American  wolves  burrow,  and,  like  tne  fox, 
have  several  entrances  to  their  holes.  A  litter  of 
young  wolves  numLers  five  puppies,  but  as  many  as 
eight  are  often  produced  at  one  birth. 

During  their  journey  through  ibp.  Barren  Grounds 
our  voyageurs  had  frequently  observed  wolves.  They 
were  mostly  gray  ones,  and  of  great  size,  for  tney  were 
travelling  through  a  district  where  the  very  largest 
kind  is  found.  At  times  they  saw  a  party  of  five 
or  six  together;  and  these  appeared  to  be  following 
upon  their  trail  —  as  each  night,  when  they  came 
barking  about  the  camp,  our  travellers  recognized 
some  of  them  as  having  been  seen  before.  They 
had  made  no  attempt  to  shoot  any  of  them  —  partly 
because  they  did  not  want  either  their  skins  or  flesh, 
and  partly  because  their  ammunition  had  been  reduced 
to  a  small  quantity,  and  they  did  not  wish  to  spend  it 
unnecessarily.  The  wolves,  therefore,  were  allowed 
to  approach  very  near  the  camp,  and  howl  as  much  as 
they  liked  —  which  they  usually  did  throughout  the 
livelong  night.  What  they  found  to  allure  them  after 
our  travellers,  the  latter  could  not  make  out ;  as  thej 


II 


THE    BARREN    GROUNDS. 


285 


had  not  shot  an  animal  of  any  kind  since  leaving  the 
lake,  and  scarcely  a  scrap  of  any  thing  was  ever  left 
behind  them.  Perhaps  the  wolves  were  living  upon 
hope. 

One  evening  our  travellers  had  made  their  camp  on 
the  side  of  a  ridge  —  which  they  had  just  crossed  — 
and  under  the  shelter  of  some  rough  rocks.  There 
was  no  wood  in  the  neighborhood  wherewith  to  make 
a  fire ;  but  they  had  scraped  the  snow  from  the  plac« 
over  which  their  tent  was  pitched  and  under  it  their 
skins  were  spread  upon  the  ground.  As  the  tent  was 
a  very  small  one,  Marengo's  sledge,  with  the  utensils 
and  pemmican  bags,  was  always  left  outside  close  by 
the  opening.  Marengo  himself  slept  there,  and  that 
was  considered  sufficient  to  secure  all  these  things  from 
wolves,  or  any  other  creatures  that  might  be  prowling 
about.  - 

On  the  evening  in  question,  the  sledge  was  in  its 
usual  place  —  the  dog  having  been  taken  from  it  — 
and  as  our  voyageurs  had  not  yet  had  their  supper, 
the  pemmican  bags  were  lying  loosely  about,  one  or 
iwo  of  them  being  open.  There  was  a  small  rivulet 
at  the  foot  of  the  ridge  —  some  two  hundred  paces 
distant  —  and  Basil  and  Fran9ois  had  gone  down  to  it 
to  get  water.  One  of  them  took  the  axe  to  break  the 
ice  with,  while  t\\i  other  carried  a  vessel.  On  arriv- 
ing near  the  bank  of  the  rivulet,  the  attention  of  the 
boys  wao  attracted  to  a  singular  appearance  upon  the 
snow.  A  fresh  shower  bad  fallen  that  moiTiing,  and 
the  surface  was  still  soft,  and  very  smooth.  Upoa 
this  they  observed  double  lines  of  little  dots,  runnuig 
in  diffeient  directions,  which,  upon  close  inspection, 


w 


;  1 


r< 


988 


THE   BARHEN   OROUNl>S. 


appeared  to  be  the  tracks  of  some  animal.  At  first, 
Basil  and  Fran9oi3  could  hardly  believe  them  to  be 
such,  the  tracks  were  so  very  small.  They  had  never 
seen  so  small  ones  before  —  those  of  a  mouse  being 
quite  double  the  size.  But  when  they  looked  more 
closely  at  them,  the  boys  could  distinguish  the  marks 
of  five  little  toes  with  claws  upon  them,  which  left  no 
doubt  upon  their  minds  that  some  living  create  re,  and 
that  a  very  diminutive  one,  must  have  passed  over  the 
spot.  Indeed,  had  the  snow  not  been  both  fine-grained 
and  soft,  the  feet  of  such  a  creature  could  not  have 
made  any  impression  upon  it. 

The  boys  stopped  and  looked  around,  thinking 
they  might  see  the  animal  itself.  There  was  a  wide 
circle  of  snow  around  them,  and  its  surface  was 
smooth  and  level ;  but  not  a  speck  upon  it  betrayed 
the  presence  of  any  creature. 

"  Perhaps  it  was  a  bird,"  said  Fran9ois,  "  and  has 
taken  flight.'* 

"  I  think  not,"  rejoined  Basil.  "  They  are  not  the 
tracks  of  a  bird.  It  is  some  animal  that  has  gone 
under  the  snow,  I  fancy." 

"  But  I  see  no  hole,"  said  Fran9oi8,  "  where  even 
a  beetle  could  have  gone  down.     Let  us  look  for  one." 

At  Fran9ois*  suggestion,  they  walked  on  following 
one  of  the  dotted  lines.  Presently  they  c&me  to  a 
place,  where  a  stalk  of  long  grass  stood  up  through 
the  snow  —  its  seedless  panicle  just  appearing  above 
the  surface.  Round  this  stalk  a  little  hole  had  been 
formed  —  partly  by  the  melting  of  the  snow,  and 
partly  by  the  action  of  the  wind  upon  the  panicle  — 
and  into  this  hole  the  tracks  led.    It  was  evident  that 


1:1 


rHE    BARUEN    GROUNDS. 


I       28/ 


a 
in 

u 


the  animal,  whatever  it  was,  must  have  gune  down 
the  culm  of  the  grass  in  making  its  descent  from  the 
surface  of  the  snow !  They  now  observed  another 
track  going  from  the  hole  in  an  opposite  direction, 
which  showed  that  the  creature  had  climbed  up  in 
the  same  way.  Curious  to  know  what  it  might  have 
been,  the  boys  hailed  Lucien  and  Nonnan,  telling 
them  to  come  down.  These,  followed  by  Marengo, 
soon  arrived  upon  the  spot.  When  Lucien  saw  the 
tiBcks,  he  pronounced  them  at  once  to  be  those  of 
the  little  shrew-mouse  {Sorex  parvus),  the  smallest 
of  all  the  quadrupeds  of  America.  Several  of  them 
had  evidently  been  out  upon  the  snow  —  as  there 
were  other  dotted  lines  —  and  the  tops  of  many  stalks 
of  grass  were  seen  above  the  surface,  each  of  which 
had  formed  a  little  hole  around  it,  by  which  tho  mice 
were  enabled  to  get  up  and  down. 

Norman,  who  had  seen  these  little  animals  before, 
cautioned  his  companions  to  remain  quiet  a  while,  and 
perhaps  some  of  them  might  come  to  the  surface. 
They  aU  stopped  therefore,  and  stood  some  tim** 
without  moving,  or  speaking  to  one  another.  Pres- 
ently, a  little  head  not  much  bigger  than  a  pea  was 
seen  peeping  up,  and  then  a  body  followed,  which  ic 
gize  did  not  exceed  that  of  a  large  gooseberry !  To 
this  a  tail  was  suspended,  just  one  inch  in  length,  of  a 
square  shape,  and  tapering  from  root  to  point,  like 
that  of  any  other  mouse.  The  little  creature  was 
covered  with  a  close  smooth  fur,  of  a  clove-biown 
color  above,  but  more  yellowish  upon  the  belly  and 
Bidefl ;  and  was  certainly,  as  it  sat  upon  the  even 
surface  of  the  snow,  the  most  diminutive  and  od'lest* 


288 


THE   BARREN    ^ROUNDS. 


looking  quadruped  that  any  of  tlie. party  had  evet 
beheld.  ^ 

They  were  just  whispering  to  one  another  whai 
means  they  should  use  to  capture  it,  when  Marengo, 
whom  Basil  had  been  holding  quiet,  all  at  once 
uttered  a  loud  bay ;  and,  springing  out  of  the  hands 
of  his  master,  galloped  off  towards  the  camp.  All 
of  them  looked  after,  wondering  what  had  started 
the  dog ;  but  his  strange  behavior  was  at  once  ex- 
plauied,  and  to  their  consternation.  Around  the  tent, 
and  close  to  its  entrance,  several  large  wolves  were 
seen.  They  were  leaping  about  hurriedly,  and  wor- 
rying tsome  objects  that  lay  upon  the  ground.  What 
these  objects  were  was  too  pi  in.  They  were  the 
hags  of  pemmican  /  Part  of  their  contents  were  seen 
strewed  over  the  snow,  and  part  was  already  in  the 
stomachs  of  the  wolves. 

The  boys  uttered  a  simultaneous  shout,  and  ran 
forward.  Marengo  was  by  this  time  among  the 
wolves,  and  had  set  fiercely  upon  one  of  them.  Had 
his  masters  not  been  at  hand,  the  fierce  brutes  would 
soon  have  settled  the  account  with  Marengo.  But 
the  former  were  now  close  by,  and  the  wolves,  seeing 
them,  ran  off;  but,  to  the  consternation  of  the  boys, 
each  of  them  carried  off  a  bag  of  the  pemmican  in 
his  mouth  with  as  much  lightness  and  speed  as  if 
nothing  encumbered  them ! 

"  We  are  lost  I "  cried  Norman,  in  a  voice  of  terror 
"  Our  provisions  are  gone  I  —  all  gone ! " 

It  was  true.  The  next  moment  the  wolves  dis- 
appeared over  the  summit  of  the  ridge  ;  and  although 
each  of  the  boysi  had  seized  his  gun,  and  ran  after, 


\ 


1,1 


TWE   SABREN  UHOONDfl. 


f»8 


Not  a  wolf  waff 


fte  pursuit  proved  an  idle  one. 
overtaken. 

Scarce  a  scrap  of  the  pemmican  had  been  left- 
only  some  fragments  that  had  been  gnawed  by  the 

ravenous  brutes,  and  acattenpil  ^».  4al  %«. 

«,vi,*  ^  *  M  wattereti  over  the  snow.  Thai 
night  our  traveMers  went  to  bed  suppei  less ;  and,  what 
with  hunger,  and  the  dep,^ion  of  spirits  caus;d  by 
UusmodenJoneandaUof  them  ke^  awake  ZZ 
Hfce  wlMle  of  the  night.  ^^^ 

19 


S90 


THE   ROCK-TBfPK 


CHAPTER  XXXI 


THE  ROCK-TRIPB. 


Tbet  left  their  skin-couch  at  an  early  hour,  ciOM 
after  daybreak.  Hunger  and  anxiety  drove  them  out 
of  their  tent.  Not  a  morsel  of  any  thing  for  brcak- 
fiut  I  They  looked  abroad  over  the  country,  in  order, 
if  possible,  to  descry  some  living  creature.  None 
oould  be  seen  —  nothing  but  the  wilderness  waste  of 
snow,  with  here  and  there  the  side  of  a  steep  hill,  or 
a  rock  showing  cold  and  bleak.  Even  the  wolves  that 
had  robbed  them  were  no  longer  to  be  seen,  as  if  these 
creatures  knew  that  they  had  got  all  that  was  worth 
having,  and  had  now  taken  themselves  off  to  hunt  for 
plunder  elsewhere. 

The  situation  of  our  travellers  was  really  one  of 
extreme  peril,  although  it  may  be  difficult  for  you, 
young  reader,  to  conceive  why  it  should  be  so.  They, 
he-.  »er,  knew  it  well.  They  knew  that  they  might 
travel  for  days  through  that  inhospitable  region,  with- 
out falling  in  with  any  thing  that  would  make  a  single 
meal  for  them.  But  less  time  than  that  would  suffice 
to  starve  them  all.  Already  they  felt  the  pangs  of 
hunger  —  for  they  had  not  eaten  since  their  breakfast 
ef  the  preceding  day,  the  wolves  having  interrupted 
their  preparations  for  dinner. 

It  was  of  no  use  remaining  where  they  were  i  aO| 


THE   aOCK-TBIPB. 


291 


itriking  thcii  tenl  once  more,  they  travelled  forward. 
It  was  but  poor  consolation  to  them  that  they  trav^ 
elled  much  lighter  than  before.  They  had  nothing  to 
carry  but  their  guns,  and  these  they  had  got  ready  for 
work  —  so  that  their  journey  partook  somewhat  of 
the  character  of  a  hunting  excursion.  They  did  not 
even  follow  a  direct  course,  but  occasionally  turned  to 
<me  side  or  the  other,  wherever  a  clump  of  willows,  or 
uny  other  roughness  on  the  ground,  looked  like  it  might 
be  the  shelter  of  game.  But  during  that  whole  day — 
although  they  travelled  from  near  sunrise  to  sunset— 
not  a  living  thing  was  seen  ;  and  for  the  second  night 
they  went  supperless  to  bed. 

A  man  will  bear  hunger  for  many  days  —  scm« 
more,  some  less  —  without  actually  dying  of  it ;  but 
at  no  period  will  his  sufferings  be  greater  than  during 
the  third  or  fourth  day.  He  will  grow  more  feeble 
afterwards,  but  the  pain  which  he  endures  will  not  be 
greater. 

On  the  third  day  the  sufferings  of  our  party  were 
extreme.  They  began  to  chew  pieces  of  their  skin- 
tent  and  blankets ;  but  although  this  took  the  sharp 
edge  off  their  appetites,  it  added  nothing  to  their 
strength;  and  they  still  craved  for  food,  and  grew 
feebler. 

To  use  a  poetical  phrase,  Marengo  now  became  the 
**  cynosure  of  every  eye."  Marengo  was  not  very  fat. 
The  sledge  and  short  rations  had  thinned  him  down, 
and  his  ribs  could  be  easily  traced.  Although  the 
boys,  and  Basil  in  particular,  would  have  suffered 
much  before  sacrificing  him,  yet  starvation  will  recon« 
cUe  a  man  t4  part  with  his  best  friend.    In  spite  of 


t92 


THE  BOCK-TRIPB. 


Ibeir  friendship  for  Marengo,  his  masters  eodA  not 
help  scanning  him  from  time  to  time  with  hungry 
looks.  Marengo  was  an  old  dog,  and,  no  doubt,  as 
tough  as  a  piece  of  tan-leather ;  bat  their  appetites 
were  made  up  for  any  thing. 

It  was  noar  midday.  They  had  started  early,  m 
on  the  day  before.  They  were  trudging  wearily 
along,  and  making  but  little  progress.  Marengo  was 
struggling  with  his  sledge,  feeble  as  any  of  the  party. 
Basil  saw  that  the  eyes  of  his  companions  were  from 
time  to  time  bent  upon  the  dog ;  and  though  nrnie  of 
them  said  any  thing,  he  understood  the  thoughts  that 
were  passing  within  them.  He  knew  that  none  of 
them  wished  to  propose  it  —  as  Basil  was  the  real 
master  of  Marengo  —  but  their  glances  were  suffl 
eiently  intelligible  to  him.  He  looked  at  the  downcast 
countenance  of  the  once  merry  Fran9ois,  —  at  the  se* 
rious  air  of  Norman  —  at  the  wan  cheek  and  sunken 
eye  of  Lucien,  whom  Basil  dearly  loved.  He  hesi- 
tated no  longer.  His  duty  to  his  companions  at  mice 
overcame  his  affection  for  his  faithful  dog. 

•< We  must  kill  Aim/"  said  he,  suddenly  stopping, 
■nd  pointing  to  Marengo. 

The  rest  halted. 

"  I  fear  there's  no  help  for  it,"  said  Norman,  turning 
his  face  in  every  direction,  and  sweeping  the  surface 
of  the  snow  with  hopeless  glances. 

Fran9ois  also  assented  to  the  proposal. 

*'  Let  us  make  a  condition,"  suggested  Lucien ;  **  ] 
for  one  could  walk  five  miles  farther.**  And  as  Lu* 
eien  suid  this,  he  made  an  effort  to  stand  erect,  and 
look  strong  and  brave ;  but  Basil  knew  it  was  an  effort 
if  generosity. 


YHE   ROCK'TRIPB. 


293 


*<  No,"  said  he, — *<no  dear  Luce.  Tuu  are  done 
■p.    We  must  kill  the  dog  I  ** 

*  Nonsense,  Basil,  70U  mistake,"  replied  the  other ; 
"  I  assure  you  I  am  far  from  being  done  up.  I  could 
go  much  farther  yet  Stay  I"  continued  he,  pointing 
ahead ;  **  you  see  yonder  rocks  ?  They  are  about  three 
miles  off,  I  should  think.  They  lie  directly  in  our 
course.  Well,  now,  let  us  agree  to  this  condition. 
Let  us  give  poor  Marengo  a  chance  for  his  life.  U 
we  find  Bothmg  before  reaching  those  rocks,  why 
then " 

And  Lnden,  seeing  Marengo  gazing  up  in  his  face, 
left  the  sentence  unfinished.  The  poor  brute  looked 
up  at  all  of  them  as  though  he  understood  every  word 
that  they  were  saying ;  and  his  mute  appeal,  had  it 
been  necessary,  would  not  have  been  thrown  away. 
But  it  did  not  require  that  to  get  him  the  proposed  res- 
pite. All  agreed  willingly  with  Lucten's  proposition ; 
and,  shouldering  their  pieces,  the  party  moved  on. 

Lucien  had  purposely  understated  the  distance  to 
the  rocks.  It  was  five,  instead  of  three  miles ;  and 
some  of  them  made  it  full  ten,  as  they  were  deter> 
mined  Marengo  should  have  the  benefit  of  every 
chance.  They  depk>yed  like  skirmishers ;  and  not  a 
brake  or  brush  that  lay  to  the  right  or  left  of  the 
path  but  was  visited  and  beaten  by  one  or  other  of 
them.  Their  diligence  was  to  no  purpose.  After 
two  hours'  weary  work,  they  arrived  among  the 
rocks,  having  seen  not  a  trace  of  either  quadruped 
or  bird. 

«  Come  1 "  cried  Lucien  in  his  now  feeble  voice,  still 
trying  to  look  dieerful,  *'  we  must  pass  through  them 


S94 


THE   ROCII-TRIPK. 


There  is  a  chance  yet.  Let  him  hase  fair  play.  Thu 
rocks  were  to  be  the  limit,  but  it  was  not  stated  what 
part  of  them.  Let  us  pass  through  to  the  other  side 
—  they  do  not  extend  far." 

Encouraged  by  the  words  of  Lucien,  the  party  en- 
tered among  the  rocks,  moving  on  separate  paths. 
They  had  gone  only  a  few  paces,  when  a  shout  from 
Norman  caused  the  rest  to  look  to  him  for  an  explana- 
tion. No  animal  was  in  sight.  Had  he  seen  any  ? 
No ;  but  something  that  gratified  him  certainly,  for  his 
voice  and  manner  expressed  it. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  inquired  the  others,  all  speaking  at 
the  same  time. 

"  Tripe  de  roche  I "  answered  he. 

"  TWpc  de  roche  ?  " 

"Yes,"  replied  Norman,  "look  there!"  and  he 
pointed  to  one  of  the  rocks  directly  ahead  of  them,  at 
the  same  time  moving  forward  to  it.  The  others  has>' 
tened  up  after.  On  reaching  the  rock,  they  saw  what 
Norman  had  meant  by  the  words  tripe  de  roche  (rock- 
tripe).  It  was  a  black,  hard,  crumply  substance,  that 
nearly  covered  the  surface  of  the  rock,  and  was  evi- 
dently of  a  vegetable  nature.  Lucien  knew  what  it 
was  as  well  as  Norman,  and  joy  had  expressed  itsell 
upon  his  pale  cheeks  at  the  sight.  As  for  Basil  and 
Fran9ois  they  only  stood  waiting  an  explanation,  and 
wondering  what  value  a  quantity  of  "  rock  moss,"  as 
they  deemed  it,  could  be  to  persons  in  their  condition. 
Lucien  soon  informed  them  that  it  was  not  a  "  moss," 
but  a  "  lichen,"  and  of  that  celebrated  species  which 
will  sustain  human  life.  It  was  the  Gyrophora.  Nor> 
man  conOrmed  Lucier/s  statement,  and  furthermora 


THE    KOGK-TRIPB. 


fi9£ 


a- Armed  that  uot  only  the  Indians  and  Esquimaux,  bul 
also  parties  of  voyageurs,  had  often  subsisted  upon  it 
for  days,  when  they  would  otherwise  have  stan'fML 
There  are  many  species, — not  less  than  five  or  six.  All 
of  them  possess  nutritive  properties,  but  only  one  is  a 
palatable  food  —  the  Gyrophora  veUea  of  botanists. 
Unfortunately,  this  was  not  the  sort  which  our  voya- 
geurs  had  happened  upon,  as  it  grows  only  upon  rookf 
shaded  by  woods,  and  is  rarely  met  with  in  the  opeo 
barrens.  The  one,  however,  which  Norman  had  dis* 
covered  was  the  "  next  best,"  and  they  were  all  glad 
at  finding  even  that 

The  first  thing  to  be  thought  of  was  to  collect  ky 
and  all  four  set  to  peeling  and  scraping  it  from  the 
rocks.  The  next  thought  was  to  make  it  ready  for 
eating.  Here  a  new  difficulty  stared  them  in  the  face. 
The  tripe  de  roche  had  to  be  boiled,  —  it  could  not  be 
eaten  else,  —  and  where  was  the  fire  ?  where  was  the 
wood  to  make  one  ?  Not  a  stick  was  to  be  seen.  They 
had  not  met  with  a  tree  during  all  that  day's  journey. 

They  were  now  as  badly  off  as  ever.  The  tripe  d» 
roche  would  be  of  no  more  use  to  them  than  so  much 
dry  grass.     What  could  they  do  with  it  ? 

In  the  midst  of  their  suspense,  one  of  them  tJiouglU 
of  the  sledge  —  Marengo's  sledge.  That  would  make 
a  fire,  but  a  very  small  one.  It  might  do  to  cook  a 
single  meal.  Even  that  was  better  than  none.  Ma- 
rengo was  not  going  to  object  to  the  arrangement.  lie 
looked  quite  willing  to  part  with  the  sledge.  But  a 
few  hours  before,  it  came  near  being  used  to  cook 
Marengo  himself.  He  was  not  aware  of  that,  perhapRi 
but  no  matt<ir.  All  agreed  that  the  sledge  must  b« 
broken  up,  and  converted  into  firewood. 


1 


TBI   BOCK-TKiri. 


They  were  »b<Nit  taking  it  to  pieces,  and  bad  tdread/ 
^anhitched**  Marengo  ftt>ni  it,  when  Basil,  who  had 
walked  to  the  other  side  of  the  rocky  jumble,  cried 
back  tr  them  to  desist  He  had  espied  some  willows 
«t  no  great  distance.  Out  ct  these  a  Are  could  be 
made.  The  sledge,  therefore,  was  let  alone  for  the 
present.  Basil  and  Francois  immediately  started  ibr 
the  willows,  while  Norman  and  Lueien  remained  open 
the  spot  to  prepare  the  **  tripe  "  for  the  pot 

In  a  short  time  the  former  parties  returned  wit^ 
two  large  bundles  of  willows,  and  the  firu  was  kindled. 
The  tripe  dt  roekty  with  scHne  snow — iw  there  wat 
BO  water  near — was  put  into  the  pot,  and  the  latter 
hang  oVer  the  blaie. 

After  btnling  for  nearly  an  hoar,  the  liehen  became 
reduced  to  a  soft  gummy  pulp,  and  Norman  thickened 
tiie  mess  to  his  taste  by  patting  in  mmre  snow,  or  more 
of  tlie  ^  tripe,"  as  it  seemed  to  require  it  The  pot 
was  then  tt^en  firom  the  fire,  and  all  Ibur  greedily  ate 
of  its  contents.  It  was  far  from  being  palatable,  and 
had  a  clammy  **  feel "  in  the  mouth,  sometlung  like 
sago ;  but  none  of  the  party  was  in  any  way  either 
dainty  or  fastidiotts  just  at  that  time,  and  they  soon 
eonsumed  all  that  had  been  cooked.  It  did  not  satisfy 
the  appetite,  though  it  filkd  the  st(»nach,  and  made 
their  situation  less  painful  to  bear. 

Norman  infiMrmed  them  that  it  was  much  better  when 
cooked  with  a  little  meat,  so  as  to  make  broth.  This 
Norman's  companions  could  easily  credit,  but  where 
was  the  meat  to  come  from  ?  The  Indians  prefer  the 
%n/>«  de  roehe  when  prepared  along  witi  the  tarn  of 
flth,  (V  when  boiled  in  fish  liqaor. 


11 


nu  BOOK>TBlPft« 


id 
id 

rs 

« 

e 
r 

B 


ft? 


Our  wdary  voyageurs  resolved  to  remain  among  the 
»ock8  for  that  night  at  least;  and  with  this  intent  they 
put  up  their  little  tent.  They  did  not  kindle  anv  fire, 
as  the  willows  were  scarce,  and  there  would  be  barely 
enough  to  make  one  or  two  aiore  boiUngs  of  the  rock- 
<ripe.  They  spread  their  skins  within  the  tent,  and 
creeping  in,  kept  oae  Auotber  as  warn  m  thaj  oonld 
until  mondof. 


k^ 


298 


THE   POLAB  RARE  AlTD 


CHAPTER  XXXn. 


THE  POLAR  HARE  AND  GREAT  SNOWY  OWJL 


Of  course  hunger  kept  them  from  sleeping  kta 
Ihey  were  up  and  out  of  the  tent  by  an  early  hour 
Their  fire  was  rekindled,  and  they  were  making  prepa- 
rations for  a  fresh  pot  of  rock-tripe,  when  they  were 
startled  by  the  note  of  a  well-known  bird.  On  looking 
up,  they  beheld  seated  upon  the  point  of  a  rock  the 
creature  itself,  which  was  the  "  cinereous  crow,"  (  Gat' 
ruliis  Canadensis),  or,  as  it  is  better  known,  the  "  whis- 
key Jack."  The  latter  name  it  receives  from  the  voya- 
geurs,  on  account  of  the  resemblance  of  its  Indian 
a|)]>ellation, "  whiskae-shaw-neesh  "  to  the  words  "  whis- 
key John."  Although  sometimes  called  the  "  cinere- 
ous crow,"  the  bird  is  a  true  jay.  It  is  one  of  the 
most  inelegant  of  the  genus,  being  of  a  dull  gray  color, 
and  not  particularly  gractful  in  its  form.  Its  plumage, 
moreover,  does  not  consist  of  webbed  feathers,  but 
rather  more  resembles  hair;  nor  does  its  voice  make 
up  for  the  plainness  of  its  appearance,  as  is  the  case 
with  some  birds.  On  the  contrary,  the  voice  of 
"  whiskey  Jack  "  is  plaintive  and  squeaking,  though 
he  is  something  of  a  mocker  in  his  way,  and  frequently 
imitates  the  notes  of  other  birds.  He  is  one  of  those 
creatures  that  frequent  the  habitations  of  man,  an<] 
there  ie  not  a  fur  post,  or  fort,  iu  all  the  Hudson's  Bay 


OkvE*-:    SNOWT   OWL. 


299 


' 


teiritory,  where  "  wbiskey  Jack"  is  not  fumiliarly 
known.  He  is  far  from  being  a  favorite,  however,  as, 
like  his  near  relative  the  magpie,  he  is  a  great  thief, 
ar.'j  will  follow  the  marten-trapper  all  day  while  bait- 
ing his  traps,  perching  upon  a  tree  until  the  bait  is  set, 
and  then  pouncing  down,  and  carrying  it  off.  He 
frequently  pilfci  s  small  articles  from  the  forts  and  en- 
campments, and  is  so  bold  as  to  enter  the  tents,  and 
seize  food  out  of  any  vessel  that  may  contain  it.  Not- 
withstanding all  this,  he  is  a  favorite  with  the  traveller 
through  these  inhospitable  regions.  No  matter  how 
barren  the  spot  where  the  voyageur  may  make  his 
camp,  his  tent  will  hardly  be  pitched,  before  he  re- 
ceives a  visit  from  •'  whiskey  Jack,"  why  comes,  of 
course,  to  pick  up  any  crumbs  that  may  fall.  His 
company,  therefore,  in  a  region  where  all  other  wild 
creatures  shun  the  society  of  man,  endears  him  to 
the  lonely  traveller. 

At  m  ny  of  their  camps  our  voyageurs  had  met 
with  this  singulsx  bird,  and  were  always  glad  to  re- 
ceive him  as  a  friend.  They  were  now  doubly  de- 
lighted to  see  him,  but  this  delight  arose  from  no 
friendly  feelings.  Their  guest  was  at  once  doomed 
to  die.  Francois  had  taken  up  his  gun,  and  in  the 
next  moment  would  have  brought  him  down,  had  he  not 
been  checked  by  Norman.  Not  that  Norman  intended 
t€  plead  for  his  life,  but  Norman's  eye  had  caught 
sight  of  another  "  whiskey  Jack," —  which  was  hop- 
ping among  the  rocks  at  some  distance  — and  fearing 
that  Fran9ois*  shot  might  frighten  it  away,  had 
hindered  him  from  tiring.  It  was  Norman's  design 
tc  jj,ct  both. 


\ 


900 


THE  POIAB  BABS  AKD 


The  second  **  whiskey  Jack,**  or,  perhaps,  it  wai 
the  whitikey  « Jill,**  soon  drew  near;  and  both  were 
now  seen  to  hop  from  rodt  to  rock,  and  then  upon  the 
top  of  the  tent,  and  one  of  them  actoally  settled  apcm 
the  edge  of  the  pot>  as  it  hung  over  the  fire,  and 
quietlj  looking  into  it,  appeared  to  scnttinize  its  con  • 
tents  I 

The  boys  coald  not  think  of  any  way  of  getting  the 
birds,  except  by  Franpois'  gun ;  and  it  was  at  length 
agreed  that  Fran9ois  should  do  his  best.  He  was 
sure  of  one  of  them,  at  least ;  so  telling  the  others  to 
get  behind  him,  he  fired  at  the  more  distant  one 
where  i^  sat  upon  the  tent,  and  took  the  other  on  the 
wing. 

Both  shots  were  successful.  The  two  jays  fell,  and 
were  soon  divested  of  their  soft,  silky,  hair-lik' 
plumage,  and  dr<^ped  into  the  boiling  pot.  They 
did  not  weigh  together  more  than  about  six  or  seven 
ounces ;  but  even  that  was  accounted  something  vnder 
present  circumstances ;  and,  with  the  tripe  de  roehe, 
a  much  better  breakfast  was  made  than  they  bad 
anticipated. 

No  mote  of  the  lichen  could  be  found.  The  rocks 
were  all  searched,  but  only  a  few  patches  —  not 
enough  for  another  full  meal  —  could  be  obtained. 
The  travellers  had  no  other  resource,  therefore,  but  to 
continue  on,  and  passing  through  the  rocky  ground, 
they  once  more  embarked  upon  the  wilderness  of 
snow. 

During  that  whole  day  not  a  living  creature  glad- 
dened their  eyes.  They  saw  nothing  that  was  eat* 
ftble  —  fish,  flesh,  fowl,  or  vegetable.    Not  even  a  bit 


OBEAl    SNOWT   OWL. 


901 


d  rodc-tripe  —  in  these  parts  the  last  i  esourcc.  of 
Bturing  men  —  could  be  met  with.  They  encamped 
in  a  plain,  where  not  a  tree  btood  ~-  not  even  a  rock 
to  shelter  them. 

Next  momii^  a  consultation  was  held.  Marengo 
was  again  the  subject  of  their  thoughts  and  converba* 
tion.  Should  they  kill  him  on  the  spot  or  go  a  little 
^rther  ?  That  was  the  question.  Lucien,  as  before^ 
interposed  in  his  favor.  There  was  a  high  hill  many 
miles  off,  and  in  their  proper  course.  ^  Let  us  first 
reach  yonder  hill,"  proposed  Lucien.  If  nothing  is 
found  before  that,  then  we  must  part  with  Marengo." 

The  proposal  was  agreed  to,  and,  striking  their  tent^ 
they  again  set  out. 

It  was  a  toilsome  long  way  to  that  hill— feeblo 
and  weu'y  as  they  all  were  —  but  they  reached  it 
without  having  observed  the  sli^test  trace  of  animal 
Ufe. 

"  Up  the  hill  I "  cried  Lucien,  beckoning  to  the 
others,  and  cheering  them  with  his  weak  vcnce^ 
«  Up  the  hiU ! " 

On  they  went,  up  the  steep  declivity  —  Marengc 
toiling  on  afler  them.  The  dog  looked  downcast 
and  despairing.  He  really  appeared  to  know  the 
conditions  that  had  been  made  for  his  lifb.  Hia 
masters,  as  they  crept  upward,  looked  sharply  before 
them.  Every  tuft  that  appeared  above  the  snow 
was  scrutinized,  and  ev&rj  inch  of  the  ground,  as  it 
came  into  view,  was  examined. 

At  length  they  crossed  the  escarpment  »f  the  hill^ 
and  stood  upon  the  summit.  They  gazed  forward 
wiUi  disappointed  ieelings.    The  bill4op  was  a  «o>^ 


302 


THE   POLAR   HARE   AND 


of  table  plain,  of  about  three  hundred  yards  in 
diameter.  It  was  covered  with  snow,  nearly  a  foot 
in  depth.  A  few  heads  of  withered  grass  were  seen 
above  the  surface,  but  not  enough  to  subdue  the 
uniform  white  that  prevailed  all  over.  There  was 
no  creature  upon  it;  that  was  evident.  A  bird  as 
big  as  a  sparrow,  or  a  quadruped  as  large  as  a 
Bhrew-mouse,  could  have  been  seen  upon  any  part  of  it. 
A  single  glance  satisfied  all  of  them  that  no  living 
thing  was  there. 

They  halted  without  proceeding  farther.  Some  of 
them  could  not  have  gone  another  mile,  and  all  of 
them  were  tottering  in  their  tracks.  Marengo  had 
arrived  upon  the  summit,  and  stood  a  little  to  one  side, 
with  the  sledge  behind  him. 

**  Tou  must  do  it !  "  said  Basil,  speaking  to  Norman 
in  a  hoarse  voice,  and  turning  his  head  away.  Lucien 
and  Fran9ois  stepped  aside  at  the  same  time,  and 
stood  as  if  looking  down  the  hill.  The  countenances 
of  all  three  betokened  extreme  sorrow.  There  was  a 
tear  in  Basil's  eye  that  he  was  trying  to  wipe  away 
with  his  sieeve. 

The  sharp  click  of  Norman's  gun  was  heard  behind 
them,  and  they  were  all  waiting  for  the  report,  when, 
at  that  moment,  a  dark  shadow  passing  over  the  white 
declivity  arrested  their  attention  !  It  was  the  shadow 
of  a  bird  upon  the  wing.  The  simultaneous  exclama- 
tion of  all  three  stayed  Norman's  finger  —  already 
pressing  upon  the  trigger  —  and  the  latter,  turning 
round,  saw  that  they  were  regarding  some  object 
in  the  air.  It  was  a  bird  of  great  size  —  almost  a? 
large  as  an  eagle,  but  with  the  plumage  of  a  swan 


1.1 


OREAT   8N0WT   OWL. 


808 


I 


It  was  white  all  over  —  both  body  and  wings  — « 
white  as  the  snow  over  which  it  was  sailing.  Noi> 
man  knew  the  bird  at  a  glance.  Its  thick  short 
neck  and  large  head  —  its  broad-spreading  wings  of 
milky  whiteness,  were  not  to  be  mistaken.  It  was 
the  "  great  snowy  i  wl  "  of  the  Arctic  regions. 

Its  appearance  suddenly  changed  the  aspect  of 
affairs.  Norman  let  the  but  of  his  rifle  fall  to  the 
ground,  and  stood,  like  the  rest,  watching  the  bird  in 
its  flight. 

The  snowy  owl  {Strix  nyctea)  is,  perhaps,  the  most 
beautiful,  as  it  is  one  of  the  most  powerful  birds  of  its 
genus  —  of  which  there  are  more  than  a  dozen  in 
North  America.  It  is  a  b^d  of  the  Polar  regions  -— 
even  the  most  remote  —  aid  in  the  dead  of  winter  it 
is  found  within  the  Arctic  circle,  on  both  continents 
—  although  at  the  same  season  it  also  wanders  faither 
south.  It  dwells  upon  the  Barren  Grounds  as  well  as 
in  wooded  districts.  In  the  former  it  squats  upon  the 
snow,  where  its  peculiar  color  ofVen  prevents  it  from 
being  noticed  by  the  passing  hunter.  Nature  has 
furnished  it  with  every  protection  from  the  cold.  Its 
plumage  is  thick,  closely  matted,  and  downy,  and  it  is 
feathered  to  the  veiy  eyes  —  so  that  its  legs  appear  as 
large  as  those  of  a  good-sized  dog.  The  bill,  too,  is 
completely  hidden  under  a  mass  of  feathers  that  cover 
its  face,  and  not  even  a  point  of  its  whole  body  it 
exposed. 

The  owl  is  usually  looked  upon  as  a  night-bird,  and 
in  southern  latitudes  it  is  rarely  seen  by  day ;  but  the 
owls  of  the  Northern  regions  differ  from  their  conge- 
nen  in  this  respect.    They  hunt  by  day,  even  during 


I    I 


\ 


S04 


THE   POLAR  HARK  AND 


the  bright  hours  of  noon.  Were  it  not  so,  how  could 
they  exist  iu  the  midst  of  an  Arctic  summer,  when  the 
days  are  months  in  duration  ?  Here  we  have  another 
example  oi  the  manner  in  which  Nature  trains  her 
wild  creatures  to  adapt  themselves  to  their  situation. 

At  least  a  dozen  species  of  owls  fVequent  the  terri- 
tory of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company  —  the  largest  of 
which  is  the  cinereous  owl,  whose  wings  have  a  spread 
of  nearly  five  feet.  Some  species  migrate  south  on 
the  approach  of  winter ;  while  several,  as  the  snowj 
owl,  remain  to  prey  upon  the  ptarmigan,  the  hares, 
and  other  small  quadrupeds,  who,  like  themselves, 
choose  that  dreary  region  for  their  winter  home. 

Our  travellers,  as  I  have  said,  stood  watching  the 
owl  as  it  soared  silently  through  the  heavens.  Fran- 
cois had  thrown  hb  gun  across  his  lefl  arm,  in  hopes 
he  might  get  a  shot  at  it ;  but  the  bird  -^  a  shy  one  at 
all  times  —  kept  away  out  of  range ;  and,  ader  cir- 
cling once  or  twice  over  the  hill,  uttered  a  loud  cry 
and  flew  off. 

Its  cry  resembled  the  moan  of  a  human  being  in 
distress ;  and  its  effect  upon  the  minds  of  our  travel* 
lers,  in  the  state  they  then  were,  was  far  from  being 
pleasant.  They  watched  the  bird  with  despairing 
looks,  until  it  was  lost  against  the  white  background 
of  a  snow-covered  hill. 

They  had  noticed  that  the  owl  appeared  to  be  just 
taking  flight  when  they  first  saw  it  It  must  havn 
risen  up  from  the  hill  upon  which  they  weroj  and 
they  once  more  ran  their  eyes  along  the  level  summit, 
curious  to  know  where  it  had  been  perched  that  they 
\iad  not  seen  it.    No  doubt,  reflected  they,  it  had  beea 


GREAT  SNOWT   OWL. 


805 


fie&r  enough,  but  its  color  had  rendered  it  ^ndbtin* 
guishable  from  the  snow. 

"  "What  a  pity  I  '*  exclaimed  Francois. 

While  making  these  reflections,  and  sweeping  their 
glances  around,  an  object  caught  their  eyes  that  caused 
Dome  of  them  to  ejaculate  and  suddenly  raise  their 
guns.  This  object  was  near  the  centre  of  the  summit 
table,  and  at  first  sight  appeared  to  be  only  a  lump  of 
snow;  but  upon  closer  inspection,  two  little  round 
spots  of  a  dark  color,  and  above  these  two  elongated 
black  marks,  could  be  seen.  Looking  steadily,  the 
eye  at  length  traced  the  outlines  of  an  animal,  that  sat 
In  a  crouching  attitude.  The  round  spots  were  its 
«yes,  and  the  black  marks  above  them  were  tips  of  a 
pair  of  very  long  ears.  All  the  rest  of  its  body  was 
covered  with  a  soft  white  fur,  hardly  to  be  distinguished 
from  the  snow  upon  which  it  rested. 

The  form  and  color  of  the  animal,  but  more  espe- 
daily  its  long  erect  ears,  made  it  easy  for  them  to  teQ 
what  it  was.    All  of  them  arm  it  was  a  hare. 

*<  Hush  I "  continued  Norman,  as  soon  as  Lc  saw  it ; 
*  keep  still  all  of  you  —  leave  it  to  me.** 

«  What  shall  we  do  ?  "  demanded  Basil  **  Can  we 
not  aasist  you  ?  ** 

**  No,"  was  the  reply,  uttered  in  a  whisper ;  ♦*  stay 
where  you  are.  Keep  the  dog  quiet.  Til  manage 
puss,  if  the  owl  hasn't  scared  her  too  badly.  That 
scream  has  started  her  out  of  her  form.  Fm  certain 
B>s  wasn't  that  way  before.  Maybe  she'll  sit  it  out. 
Lucky  the  sun's  high  —  don't  move  a  step.  Have  the 
dog  ready,  but  hold  him  tight,  and  keep  a  sharp  loofe 
out  if  she  bolts." 

20 


506 


THE   POLAR   HARE   JlVD 


After  giving  these  instructions,  that  were  all  utlenbd 
quickly  and  in  an  under  tone,  Norman  moved  off,  with 
liis  gun  carried  across  his  arm.  He  did  not  move  in 
the  direction  of  the  hare,  but  rather  as  if  he  waa 
going  from  her.  His  course,  however,  bent  gradually 
into  a  circle  of  which  the  hare  was  the  centre  —  the 
diameter  being  the  full  breadth  of  the  summit  level, 
which  was  about  three  hundred  yards.  In  this  circle 
he  walked  round  and  round,  keeping  his  eye  fixed 
upon  the  crouching  animal.  When  he  had  nearly 
completed  one  circumference,  he  began  to  shorten  the 
diameter  —  so  that  the  curve  which  he  was  now  fol- 
lowing was  a  spiral  one,  and  gradually  drawing  nearer 
to  the  hare.  The  latter  kept  watching  him  as  he 
moved  —  curiosity  evidently  mingling  with  her  fears. 
Fortunately,  as  Norman  had  said,  the  sun  was  nearly 
in  the  vcilex  of  the  heavens,  and  his  own  body  cast 
very  little  shadow  upon  the  snow.  Had  it  been  other* 
wise,  the  hare  would  have  been  frightened  at  the 
moving  shadow,  and  would  have  sprung  out  of  Ler 
form,  before  he  could  have  got  within  range. 

When  he  had  made  some  four  or  five  circuits,  Nor- 
man moved  slower  and  slower,  and  then  stopped 
nearly  opposite  to  where  the  others  were.  These 
Btood  watching  him  with  beating  hearts,  for  they  knew 
that  the  life  of  Marengo,  and  perhaps  their  own  aa 
well,  depended  on  the  shot.  Norman  had  chosen  his 
place,  so  that  in  case  the  hare  bolted,  she  might  run 
towaids  them,  and  give  them  the  chance  of  a  flying 
ehot.  His  gun  was  already  at  his  shoulder — his 
finger  rested  on  the  trigger,  and  the  boys  were  expect- 
ing the   report,  when  again  the  shadow  of  a  bird 


QHEAT   SNOWY   OWL. 


807 


in 


flitted  over  the  snow,  a  loud  humai  'like  scream 
sounded  in  their  ears,  and  the  hare  was  seen  to  spring 
up,  and  stretch  her  long  legs  in  flight.  At  the  name 
instant  the  great  snowy  owl  was  observed  wheeling 
Rbove,  and  threatening  to  pounce  upon  the  fleeing 
animal  1 

The  hare  ran  in  a  side  direction,  but  it  brought  hei 
as  she  passed  within  range  of  the  party  by  the  sledge. 
The  owl  kept  above  her  as  she  ran.  A  dozen  leaps 
was  all  the  hare  ever  made.  A  loud  crack  was  heard, 
and  she  was  seen  to  spring  up  and  fall  back  upon  the 
snow,  dead  as  a  door-nail.  Like  an  echo  another 
crack  followed  —  a  wild  scream  rang  through  the  air, 
and  the  great  white  owl  fell  fluttering  to  the  earth. 
The  reports  were  not  of  a  rifle.  They  were  the 
louder  detonations  of  a  shot  gun.  All  eyes  were 
turned  towards  Franpois,  who,  like  a  little  god,  stood 
enveloped  in  a  halo  of  blue  smoke.  Fran9ois  was  the 
hero  of  the  hour. 

Marengo  rushed  forward  and  seized  the  struggling 
owi,  that  (snapped  its  bill  at  him  like  a  watchman's 
rattle.  But  Marengo  did  not  care  for  that ;  and  seiz- 
ing its  head  in  his  teeth,  gave  it  a  crunch  that  at  once 
put  an  end  to  its  flap[>ing. 

Marengo  was  reprieved,  and  he  seemed  to  know  it 
as  he  bounded  over  the  snow,  waving  his  tail,  and 
balking  like  a  young  fool. 

They  all  ran  up  to  the  hare,  which  proved  to  be  the 
"  Polar  hare  "  {Lepus  glacialis),  and  one  of  the  largest 
of  its  species  —  not  less  than  fifteen  pounds  in  weight. 
Its  fur,  soft  and  white  like  swan-down,  was  stained  with 
red  blood.    It  was  not  quite  dead.     Its  little  heart  yet 


S08      POLAR   HAHR    AND    GREAT   S^fOWT   OWL. 


beat  faintly,  and  the  light  of  life  was  still  shining 
from  its  beautiful  honey-colored  eyes.  Both  it  and 
the  owl  were  taken  up  and  carried  to  the  sledge, 
which  was  once  more  attached  to  Marengo,  as  the 
party  intended  to  go  forward  and  halt  under  the  shel- 
ter of  the  hiU. 

**  There  must  be  some  wood  in  this  qnarter,**  re- 
marked Norman :  '<  I  never  knew  this  set  of  har« 
fkr  from  timber." 

**  True,"  said  Lucien,  "  the  Polar  hare  feeds  upon 
willows,  arbutus,  and  the  Labrador  tea-plant.  Some 
of  these  kinds  must  be  near. 

While  they  were  speaking,  they  had  reached  the 
brow  of  the  hill,  on  the  opposite  side  from  where  they 
had  ascended.  On  looking  into  the  valley  below,  to 
their  great  joy  they  beheld  some  clumps  of  willows, 
and  good-sixed  trees  of  poplar,  birch,  and  spruce-pine 
{Pinus  alba)y  and  passing  down  the  hill,  the  travellers 
soon  stood  in  their  midst.  Presently  was  heard  the 
chipping  sound  of  an  axe  and  crash  of  falling  timber, 
and  in  a  few  moments  after  a  column  of  smoke  was 
teen  soaring  up  out  of  the  valley,  and  curlin{^  oheer- 
Iblly  towards  tbe  bright  blic  sky. 


IKK  JUUPINO   UOt'SB.   ETC. 


801 


ling 
and 

lg«. 
the 
lel- 

r©- 
are 

)on 
me 

the 

ley 

to 

ne 
!rs 
he 

EM 

r- 


OHAPTER  XXXIIL 
THE  JUMPING  MOUSE  AND  THE  ERMINE 

Xj^oe  as  the  hare  was,  she  would  have  made  but 
A  meal  for  our  four  hungry  voyageurs,  had  they  eaten 
at  will  By  Lucien's  advice,  however,  they  restrained 
themselves,  and  half  of  her  was  left  for  supper,  when 
the  "  cook  "  promised  to  make  them  hare-soup.  The 
bead,  feet,  and  aiher  spare  bits,  fell  to  Marengo's 
share.  The  owl,  whose  flesh  was  almost  as  white  as 
its  plumage,  and,  as  Norman  well  knew,  most  delicate 
eating,  was  reserved  for  to-morrow's  breakfast. 

They  had  pitched  their  tent  with  the  fntention  of 
remaining  at  that  place  all  night,  and  continuing  their 
journey  next  day ;  but,  as  it  still  wanted  several  hours 
of  sunset,  and  the  strength  of  all  was  considerably 
recruited,  they  resolved  to  hunt  about  the  neighbor- 
hood as  long  as  they  had  light.  It  was  of  great 
importance  that  they  should  procure  more  game.  The 
owl  would  make  but  a  spare  breakfast,  and  after  that 
where  was  the  next  meal  to  come  from  ?  They  had  had 
a  temporary  relief,  and  while  their  strength  lasted,  they 
must  use  every  effort  to  procure  a  further  supply. 
The  valley  in  which  their  new  camp  was  placed  looked 
well  for  game.  It  was  a  sort  of  oasis  in  the  Barren 
Grounds.  There  was  a  lake  and  a  considerable  skirt* 
iog  q£  timber  around  it  —  consisting,  as  we  have  said, 


? 


I 


110 


THE   JUMPING   H0C8E   AND 


of  willows,  poplars,  spruce-pine,  and  dwarf  birch«treei 
{BetiUa  nana).  The  Alpine  arbutus,  whose  berries 
are  the  food  of  many  species  of  animals,  also  grew 
upon  the  side  of  the  hills  ;  and  the  Labrador  tea-plant 
{Ledum paliutre)yras  found  upon  the  low  ground  around 
the  lake.  The  leaves  of  this  last  is  a  favorite  food  of 
the  Polar  hare,  and  our  voyageurs  had  no  doubt  but 
that  there  were  many  of  these  animals  in  the  neigh- 
borhood.  Indeed,  they  had  better  evidence  than  con- 
jecture, for  they  saw  numerous  hare-tracks  in  the 
snow.  There  were  tracks  of  other  animals  too,  for  it 
is  a  well-known  fact  that  where  one  kind  exists,  at 
least  two  or  three  others  will  be  found  in  the  same 
habitat  —  all  being  connected  together  by  a  "chain 
of  destruction." 

A  singular  illustration  of  this  was  afforded  to  Lucien, 
who  remained  at  the  camp  while  the  rest  went  out 
hunting.  He  had  gathered  some  of  the  leaves  of  the 
Labrador  tea,  and  was  drying  them  over  the  coals, 
intending  to  cheer  his  comrades  with  a  cup  of  this 
beverage  after  supper.  The  hare-soup  was  boiling, 
and  the  "  cook "  sat  listening  to  ^he  cheerful  sounds 
that  issued  from  the  pot  —  now  and  tl  en  taking  off  thu 
lid  to  examine  its  savory  conter:ts  and  give  them  a 
Btir.  He  would  then  direct  his  attention  to  the  tea- 
leaves  that  were  parching  in  the  frying-pan ;  and, 
having  shifted  them  a  little,  felt  himself  at  liberty  to 
look  about  for  a  minute  or  two. 

On  one  of  these  occasions,  while  glancing  up,  hia 
attention  was  attracted  to  an  object  which  appeared 
opon  the  snow  at  a  short  distance  from  where  he  sat 
A  wreath  of  snow,  that  had  foimed  under  the  shcltef 


! 


II 


THE    ERHIRB. 


<n 


of  the  hill,  extendel  all  around  its  base,  presenting  s 
steep  front  in  every  direction.  This  front  was  only 
two  or  three  feet  in  height ;  but  the  top  surface  of  the 
wreath  was  many  yards  wide  —  in  fact,  it  extended 
back  until  it  became  blended  with  the  slope  of  the 
hill.  It  was  smooth  and  nearly  level,  but  the  hill 
above  was  steep,  and  somcwliat  rough  and  rocky. 
The  steep  front  of  the  wreath  came  down  within  half- 
a^ozen  paces  of  the  fire  where  Lucien  was  seated; 
and  it  was  upon  the  top  or  scarpment  of  it  that  the 
object  appeared  that  had  drawn  his  attention.  It  was 
a  small  creature,  but  it  was  in  motion,  and  thus  had 
caught  his  eye. 

A  single  glance  showed  him  that  the  little  animal 
was  a  mouse,  but  of  a  somewhat  singular  species.  It 
was  about  the  size  of  the  common  mouse,  but  quite 
different  in  color.  The  upper  half  of  its  body  was  of 
a  light  mahogany  tint,  while  the  lower  half,  including 
the  legs  and  feet,  were  of  a  milky  whiteness.  It  was, 
in  fact,  the  "  white-footed  mouse"  (Mus  leucoprts), one 
of  the  most  beautiful  of  its  kind. 

Here  and  there  above  the  surface  of  the  snow  pro- 
truded the  tops  of  arbutus-trees  ;  and  the  little  creature 
was  passing  from  one  of  these  to  the  other,  in  search, 
DO  doubt,  of  the  berries  that  remain  upon  theso  trees 
all  the  winter.  Sometimes  it  ran  from  point  to  point 
like  any  other  mouse,  but  now  and  then  it  would  rear 
itself  on  its  hind-legs,  and  leap  several  feet  at  a  single 
bound  I  In  this  it  evidently  assisted  itself  by  pressing 
its  tail  —  in  which  it  possesses  muscular  power  — 
Rgainst  the  snow.    This  p^^iculiar  mode  of  progression 


r ' 


312 


THE  JUHPINQ   SiOUSE    AND 


has  obtained  for  it  the  name  of  the  "  jumping-nDuse," 
and  among  the  Indiana  "  deer  "-mouse,  because  its 
leap  reminds  them  of  the  bounding  spring  of  the 
deer.  But  there  are  still  other  cpecies  of  ^  jumping 
mice  "  in  America  that  possess  this  power  to  a  greater 
degree  even  than  the  Mm  Uw:<yput. 

Lucien  watched  its  motions  without  attempting  to 
hiterfere  with  it,  until  it  had  got  nearly  out  of  sight 
He  did  not  desire  to  do  injury  to  the  little  creature,  nor 
was  he  curious  to  obtain  it,  as  he  had  already  met 
with  many  specimens,  and  examined  them  to  his  satis- 
fiiction.  He  had  ceased  to  think  of  it,  and  would,  per- 
haps, never  have  thought  of  it  again,  but,  upon  turning 
his  eyes  in  the  opposite  direction,  he  observed  another 
animal  upon  the  snow.  This  creature  had  a  far  differ- 
ent aspect  from  the  mouse.  Its  body  was  nearly  a 
foot  in  length,  although  not  much  thicker  than  that  of 
the  other !  Its  legs  were  short,  but  strong,  and  its 
forehead  broad  and  arched  convexly.  It  had  a  taU 
more  than  half  the  length  of  the  body,  hairy,  and 
tapering  like  that  of  a  cat.  Its  form  was  the  well- 
known  form  of  the  weasel,  and  it  was,  in  fact,  a  spe- 
cies of  weasel.  It  was  the  celebrated  ermine  (Mustela 
erminea)y  celebrated  for  its  soft  and  beautiful  fur,  so 
long  prizeil  as  an  ornament  for  the  robes  of  the  rich. 
It  was  white  ail  over,  with  the  exception  of  its  tail ; 
and  tliat,  for  about  an  inch  or  so  at  the  tip,  was  cov 
ered  with  black  silky  hair.  On  some  parts  of  the 
body,  too,  the  white  was  tinged  with  a  primrose  yel- 
low ;  but  this  tin^'e  is  not  found  in  all  animals  of  thii 
ipecies,  as  some  individuals  are  pure   white.     Of 


I  ■  ■ 


r.i 


1  ■(■ 


THE   ERMINE. 


818 


md 


tela 

so 

|ch. 


Ihii 


course,  it  was  now  in  i* j  winter  "  robes ; "  but  in  the 
summer  it  changes  to  a  color  that  does  not  differ  much 
fiY)m  that  of  the  common  weasel. 

When  Lucien  first  saw  it,  it  was  running  along  the 
top  of  the  wreath,  and  coming  from  the  same  direc* 
tion  from  which  the  mouse  had  come.  Now  and  then 
it  paused  a  while,  and  then  ran  on  again.  Lucien  ob- 
served that  it  kept  its  nose  to  the  ground,  and  as  it 
drew  nearer  he  saw  that  it  was  following  on  the  same 
path  which  the  other  had  taken.  To  his  astonishment 
he  perceived  that  it  was  trailing  the  mouse  /  "Wher- 
ever the  latter  had  doubled  or  made  a  dctouvy  the 
ermine  followed  the  track ;  and  where  the  mouse  had 
given  one  of  its  long  leaps,  there  the  ermine  would 
stop,  and,  after  beating  about  until  it  struck  the  trail 
again,  would  resume  its  onward  course  at  a  gallop. 
Its  manoeuvres  were  exactly  like  those  of  a  hound 
upon  the  fresh  trail  of  a  fox ! 

Lucien  now  looked  abroad  to  discover  the  mouse. 
It  was  still  in  sight  far  off  upon  the  snow,  and,  as 
Lucien  could  see,  bisily  gnawing  at  the  arbutus,  quitu 
unconscious  that  its  greai.eM  enemy  was  so  near.  1 
say  greatest  enemy,  for  the  Mas  leucovtu  is  the  natu- 
ral prey  of  the  Afustela  erminea. 

The  mouse  was  soon  made  aware  of  the  dangerous 
proximity,  but  not  until  the  ermine  had  got  within  a 
few  feet  of  it.  When  it  perceived  the  latter,  it  shrunk, 
at  nrst,  among  the  leaves  of  the  acbutus  :  but  seeing 
there  would  be  no  protection  there  —  as  the  other  waa 
still  springing  forward  to  seize  it  —  it  leaped  up,  and 
endeavored  19  escape  by  flight.    Tta  flight  a(>4)eared  to 


m  i 


814 


TIiE  JUMPING  MOUSE,   ETO> 


be  m  alternate  jumps  aud  runs,  but  the  chase  was  not 
a  long  one.  The  ermine  was  as  active  as  a  cat,  and, 
after  a  few  skips,  its  claws  were  struck  into  the  mouse. 
There  was  a  short,  slender  squeak,  and  then  a 
«  crunch,**  like  the  cracking  of  a  hazel-nut.  This  last 
Bound  was  produced  by  the  teeth  of  the  ermine  hioak 
ing  through  the  skull  of  ite  victiiou 


M 


f     \ 


Vt 


not 

and, 
use. 
a  a 
last 
oak 


vac  ABCTIC  FOX  AND   WHITE   WOLr.        8   § 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 


THE  ARCTIC  FOX  AND  WHITE  WOLP. 


LuciBN  turned  round  to  get  hold  of  his  rifle,  io« 
tending  to  punish  the  ermine,  although  the  little  crea- 
ture, in  doing  what  it  did,  had  only  obeyed  a  law  of 
nature.  But  the  boy  had  also  another  design  in  killing 
it :  he  wished  to  compare  it  with  some  ermines  he  had 
seen  while  travelling  upon  Lake  Winnipeg,  which,  as 
he  thought,  were  much  larger  —  one  that  he  had 
caught  having  measured  more  than  a  foot  in  length, 
without  including  the  taiL  He  wished,  also,  to  make 
L^oine  comparison  between  it  and  the  common  weasel ; 
^-'■^  e  m  its  winter  dress,  in  the  snowy  regions,  the  latter 
vtty  much  resembles  the  ermine;  and,  indeed,  the 
t4«i;)>p^rs  make  no  distinction  between  them. 

A  «i:h  these  ideas  Lucien  had  grasped  his  gun,  and 
yna<^  j'p'jing  hirj^elf  to  creep  a  little  nearer,  when  his 
eye  was  arrested  by  the  miotions  of  another  creature 
coming  along  the  top  of  the  wreath.  This  last  was  a 
snow-white  animal,  with  long,  shaggy  fur,  sharp- 
pointed  snout,  erect  ears,  and  bushy  taiL  Its  aspect 
was  fox-like,  and  its  movements  and  attitudes  had  all 
that  semblance  of  cunning  and  caution  so  character! stio 
af  these  animals.  Well  might  it,  for  it  war  a  fox  — 
;;a3  beautiful  white  fox  of  the  Arctic  regions. 

It  is  commonly  supposed  that  there  are  but  fwo  or 


816 


THE   ARCTIC   FOX   Ain> 


three  kinds  of  foxes  in  America  ;  and  that  these  ar« 
unly  varieties  of  the  European  species. 

This  is  an  erroneous  idea,  as  there  are  nearly  a 
dozen  varieties  existing  in  North  America,  although 
they  may  b*^  referred  to  a  less  number  of  species. 
There  is  the  >  '  fox,  which  is  confined  to  the  cold 
northert  regioi.        1  which  in  winter  is  white. 

The  "  sooty  fox  '  is  a  variety  of  the  "  Arctic,**  dis- 
tinguished from  it  only  by  its  color,  which  is  of  a 
uniform  blackish  brown. 

The  "  American  fox  "  (  Vulpes  fulvvs),  or,  as  it  is 
commonly  called,  the  "  red  fox,"  has  been  long  sup- 
posed  to  be  the  same  as  the  European  red  fox.  This 
is  erroneous.  They  differ  in  many  points  ;  and,  what 
is  somewhat  curious,  these  points  of  difference  are 
similar  to  those  that  exist  between  the  European  and 
American  wolves,  as  already  given. 

The  "  cross  fox "  is  supposed  by  the  Indians  and 
some  naturalists  to  be  only  a  variety  of  the  last.  It 
derives  its  name  from  its  having  two  dark  stripes 
crossing  each  other  upon  the  shoulders.  Its  fur  from 
this  circumstance,  and  perhaps  because  the  animal  is 
scarce,  is  more  prized  than  that  of  the  red  variety. 
When  a  single  skin  of  the  latter  is  worth  only  fifteen 
shillings,  one  of  the  cross  fox  will  bring  as  much  u 
five  guineas. 

Another  variety  of  the  red  fox,  and  a  much  more 
rare  on*  is  the  "  black,"  or  "  silver  "  fox.  The  skins 
c»f  these  command  six  times  the  price  of  any  other 
furs  found  in  America,  with  the  exception  of  the  sea- 
otter.  The  animal  itself  is  so  rare  that  only  a  few 
fail  into  the  hands  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company  iff 


WHITE   WOLF. 


817 


*  BC«aon ;  and  Mr.  Nicholaj,  the  celebrated  London 
furrier,  asserts  that  a  «ingle  skin  will  fetch  from  ten 
to  forty  guineas,  according  to  quality.     A  remarkable 
cloak,  or  pelisse,  belonging  to  the  Emperor  of  Russia, 
and  made  out  of  the  skins  of  silver-foxes,  was  exhi- 
bited in  the   Great  London  exposition  of  1851.    L' 
was  made  entirely  from  the  neck  part  of  the  skins-— 
the  only  part  of  the  silver-fox  which  is  pure  black 
This  cloak  was  valued  at  3400/. ;  though  Mr.  Nicho 
lay  considers  this  an  exaggerated  estimate,  and  statee 
its  true  value  to  be  not  over  1000/.     George  the 
Fourth  had  a  lining  of  black  fox-skins  worth  1000/. 

The  "  gray  fox "  is  a  more  southern  species  than 
any  already  described  Its  proper  home  is  the  tem- 
perate zcne  covered  b}  the  United  States ;  although 
it  extends  its  range  into  the  southern  parts  of  Canada 
In  the  United  States  it  is  the  most  common  kind^ 
although  in  that  district  there  is  also  a  ''  red  fox," 
different  from  the  Vulpes  fulvus  already  noticed ;  and 
which,  no  doubt,  is  the  red  fox  of  Europe,  introduced 
by  the  early  colonists  of  America. 

Still  another  species,  the  smallest  and  perhaps  the 
most  interesting  of  any,  is  the  "  kit  fox."  This  little 
creature  is  an  inhabitant  of  the  prairies,  where  it 
nakes  its  br.rrows  far  from  any  wood.  It  is  extremely 
jhy,  and  the  swiftest  animal  in  the  prairie  country  -^ 
outrunning  even  the  antelope  I 

When  Lucien  saw  the  fox  he  thought  no  more  of 
the  ermine,  but  drew  back  and  crouched  down,  in 
hopes  he  might  get  a  shot  at  the  larger  animal.  He 
knew  well  that  the  flesh  of  the  Arctic  fox  is  highly 
esteemed  as  fool,  particularly  by  persons  situated  a» 


818 


THE   ARCTIC   FOX  AMD 


he  and  his  companions  were,  and  he  hoped  to  be  ablfl 
to  add  it  to  their  larder. 

When  first  seen  it  was  coining  towards  him,  though 
not  in  a  direct  line.  It  was  engaged  in  hunting,  and, 
with  its  nose  to  the  snow,  was  running  in  zigzag  lines, 
"  quartering"  the  ground  like  a  pointer  dog.  Pres- 
ently it  struck  the  trail  of  the  ermine,  and  w<th  a 
yelp  of  satisfaction  followed  it.  This  of  course  brought 
it  close  past  where  Lucien  was ;  but,  notwithstanding 
his  eagerness  to  fire,  it  moved  so  rapidly  along 
the  trail  that  he  was  unable  to  take  sight  upon 
it.  It  did  not  halt  for  a  moment ;  and,  as  Lucien's 
gun  was  a  rifle,  he  knew  that  a  flying  shot  would  be 
an  uncertain  one.  In  the  belief,  therefore,  that  the 
fox  would  stop  soon  —  at  all  events  when  it  came  up 
with  the  ermine  —  he  restrained  himself  from  liring, 
and  waited. 

It  ran  on,  still  keeping  the  track  of  the  ermine. 
The  latter,  hitherto  busy  with  his  own  prey,  did  not 
see  the  fox  until  it  was  itself  seen,  when,  dropping  the 
half-eaten  caouse,  it  reared  up  on  its  hind-quarters  like 
a  squirrel  or  a  monkey,  at  the  same  time  spitting  as 
spitefully  as  any  other  weasel  could  have  done.  In 
a  moment,  however,  it  changed  its  tactics  —  for  th« 
open  jaws  of  the  fox  were  within  a  few  paces  of  it  — 
and  after  making  a  short  quick  run  along  the  surface,  1/ 
threw  up  its  hind-quarters,  and  plunged  head-foremos) 
into  the  snow !  The  fox  sprang  forward,  and  flinging 
his  brush  high  in  air,  shot  after  like  an  arrow ! 

Both  had  now  disappeared  from  Lucien's  sight 
For  a  moment  the  surface  of  the  snow  was  disturbed 
ftbove  the  spot  where  they  had  gone  down,  but  thd 


WHITE    WOLF, 


811 


ng 


next  moment  all  was  still,  and  no  evidence  exLited 
that  a  lining  creature  had  been  there,  except  the 
tracks,  and  the  break  the  two  creatures  hod  made  in 
going  down.  Lucien  ran  forward  ULtil  he  was  within 
a  few  yards  of  the  place,  and  stood  watching  the  hole^ 
with  his  rifle  ready  —  thinking  that  the  fox,  at  least, 
would  soon  come  up  again. 

He  had  waited  for  nearly  five  minutes,  looking 
0teadily  at  this  point,  when  his  eye  was  attracted  by  a 
movement  under  the  snow,  at  a  c(«siderable  distance, 
quite  fifty  paces,  from  where  he  stood.  The  frozen 
crust  was  seen  to  upheave :  and,  the  next  moment, 
the  head  of  the  fox,  and  afterwards  his  whole  body, 
appeared  above  the  suiface.  Lrcien  saw  that  the 
ermine  lay  transversely  between  his  jaws,  and  was 
quite  dead !  He  was  about  to  fire,  but  tiie  fox,  sud- 
denly perceiving  him,  shot  off  like  an  arrow,  carrying 
his  prey  along  with  him.  He  was  soon  out  of  reach, 
and  Lucien,  seeing  that  he  had  lost  his  chance,  was 
about  to  return  to  the  fire,  when,  all  at  once,  the  fox 
was  observed  to  stop,  turn  suddenly  in  his  tracks,  and 
run  off  in  a  new  direction !  Lucien  looked  beyond  to 
ascertain  the  cause  of  this  strange  manoeuvre.  That 
was  soon  ascertained.  Coming  down  from  among 
the  rocks  was  a  large  animal  —  five  times  the  fox's 
size  —  but  in  other  respects  not  unlike  him.  It  was 
also  of  a  snow-white  color,  with  long  hair,  bushy  tail, 
and  short  erect  ears,  but  its  aspect  was  not  to  be 
mistaken.     It  was  the  great  ivhite  toolf. 

When  Lucien  first  saw  this  new-comer,  the  latter 
had  just  espied  the  fox,  and  was  about  stretching  out 
into  a  gallop  towards  him     The  fox,  wcUching  baeh' 


-f 


920 


THE  ARCTIC   FOX   AKD 


W€urdM  as  he  ran,  had  not  seen  the  wolf,  until  thu  lattef 
was  within  a  few  springs  of  him  ;  and  now  when  he 
bad  turned,  and  both  were  in  full  chase,  there  was  not 
over  twenty  yards  between  them.  The  direction  in 
which  they  ran  would  bring  them  near  to  Lucien ; 
and  so  they  came,  and  passed  him  —  neither  of  them 
seeming  to  heed  his  presence.  They  had  not  got 
many  yards  farther,  before  Lucien  perceived  that  the 
wolf  was  fast  closing  on  the  fox,  and  would  soon  cap* 
lure  himi  Believing  he  would  then  stop,  so  as  to 
offer  him  a  fairer  chance  for  a  shot,  Lucien  followed. 
The  wolf,  however,  had  noticed  him  coming  after,  and 
dtbough  the  next  moment  he  closed  his  great  jawa 
upon  the  fox,  he  did  not  pause  for  a  single  instant, 
but,  lifting  the  latter  clear  up  from  the  ground, 
ran  on  without  the  slightest  apparent  diminution  of 
speed  I 

Renard  was  seen  to  struggle  and  kick,  while  he 
squeaked  like  a  shot  puppy ;  but  his  cries  each  mo- 
ment grew  feebler,  and  his  struggles  soon  came  to  an 
end  The  wolf  held  him  transversely  in  his  jaws  — 
just  as  he  himseU  but  the  moment  before  had  carried 
the  ermine. 

Lucien  saw  there  was  no  use  in  following  them,  as 
the  wolf  ran  on  with  his  prey.  With  some  disappoint- 
ment, therefore,  he  was  about  to  return  to  the  fire* 
where,  to  add  to  his  mortification,  he  knew  he  would 
find  his  tea-leaves  parched  to  a  cinder.  He  lingered 
a  aioment,  however,  with  his  eyes  still  fixed  upon  the 
departing  wolf  that  was  just  about  to  disappear  over 
the  crest  of  a  ridge.  The  fox  was  still  in  his  jawsii 
but  no  longer  struggling.     Renard  lo'Jted  limber  and 


1,1 


WHITK  WOLF. 


821 


Id 


Joad;  as  his  legs  swung  looselj  on  both  aides  of  the 
wolf's  head.  Lucien  at  that  moment  saw  tbe  latter 
suddenly  stop  in  his  career,  and  then  drop  down  upon 
the  surface  of  the  snow  as  if  dead  !  He  fell  with  his 
\  ictim  in  his  jaws,  and  lay  half  doubled  up,  and  quite 
elill. 

This  strange  action  would  have  been  a  difficult 
thing  for  Lucien  to  explain,  but,  almost  at  the  same 
instant  in  which  he  observed  it,  a  puff  of  blue  smoke 
shot  up  over  the  ridge,  and  quickly  following  was 
heard  the  sharp  crack  of  a  rifle.  Then  a  head  with 
its  cap  of  raccoon  skin  appeared  above  the  snow,  and 
Lucien,  recognizing  the  face  of  Basil,  ran  forward  to 
meet  him. 

Both  soon  stood  over  the  body  of  the  dead  wolf> 
wondering  at  what  they  ^aw;  but  Basil  far  more 
than  Lucien  —  for  the  latter  already  knew  the  circum- 
stances of  that  strange  scene  of  death.  First  there 
was  the  great  gaunt  body  of  the  wolf  stretched  along 
the  snow,  and  quite  dead.  Crossways  in  his  mouth 
was  the  fox,  just  as  he  had  been  carried  off;  and 
across  the  jaws  of  the  latter,  lay  the  long  worm-like 
body  of  the  ermine,  still  retaining  between  its  teeth 
the  half-devoured  remains  of  the  white-footed  mouse  I 
A  very  chain  of  destroyers  I  These  creatures  died  at 
tliey  had  lived,  preying  one  upon  the  other  I  Of  all 
four  the  little  mouse  alone  was  an  innocent  victim. 
The  other  three,  though  morally  guilty  by  the  laws  of 
man,  yet  were  only  acting  in  obedience  to  the  laws  of 
Nature  and  necessity.  Man  himself  obeys  a  similar 
law,  as  Basil  had  just  shown.  Philosophize  as  we 
vtU,  ve  cannot  comprehend  why  it  is  so  —  why  Nature 
21 


322 


THE   ARCTIC    FOX   AND 


requires  the  sacrifice  of  one  of  her  creatures  for  th 
sustenance  of  another.  But  although  we  cannot  un- 
derstand the  cause,  we  must  not  condemn  the  fact  as 
it  exists ;  nor  must  we  suppose,  as  some  do,  that  the 
destruction  of  God's  creatures  for  our  necessities  orn- 
Htitutcs  a  crime.  They  who  think  so,  and  who,  in 
consistency  with  their  doctrines,  confine  themselves  to 
what  they  term  "vegetable"  food,  are  at  best  buit 
shallow  reasoners.  They  have  not  studied  Naturs 
very  closely,  else  would  they  know  that  every  tima 
they  pluck  up  a  parsnip,  or  draw  their  blade  across 
the  leaf  of  a  lettuce,  they  cause  pain  and  death  I 
Hoyr  much  pain  we  cannot  tell ;  but  that  the  plsnt 
feels,  as  well  as  the  animal,  we  can  clearly  prove. 
Probably  it  feels  less,  and  it  may  be  each  kind  of 
plant  differs  from  others  in  the  amount,  according  to 
its  higher  or  lower  organism.  Probably  its  amount 
of  pleasure  —  its  capability  of  enjoyment  —  is  in  a 
direct  proportion  to  the  pain  which  it  endures  ;  and  it 
is  highly  probable  that  this  double  line  of  ratios  runs 
in  an  ascending  scale  throughout  the  vegetable  king- 
dom, gradually  joining  on  to  what  is  more  strictly 
tei'med  the  "  animal."  But  these  mysteries  of  life, 
my  young  friend,  will  be  interesting  studies  for  you 
wlien  your  mind  becomes  matured.  Perhaps  it  may 
be  your  fortune  to  unravel  «ome  of  them,  for  the 
benefit  of  your  fellow-men.  I  feel  satisfied  that  you 
will  not  only  be  a  student  of  Nature,  but  one  of  her 
gi'eat  teachers  ;  you  will  far  surpass  the  author  of  this 
little  book  in  your  knowledge  of  Nature's  laws ;  but 
it  will  always  be  a  happiness  to  him  to  reflect,  thai| 
when  far  advanced  upon  the  highway  of  science,  you 


II 


WHITE   WOLF. 


828 


will  look  buck  to  him  as  one  jou  had  passed  upon  the 
road,  and  who  pointed  you  to  the  path. 

Though  Basil  had  shot  the  wolf,  it  was  plain  that  it 
was  not  the  first  nor  yet  the  second  time  he  had  dis- 
charged his  rifle  since  leaving  the  camp.  From  his 
game-bag  protruded  the  curving  claws  and  wing-tips 
of  a  great  bird  In  one  hand  he  carried  a  white  b<>;/e 
— -  not  the  Polar  hare  —  but  a  much  smaller  kind,  also 
an  inhabitant  of  these  snowy  regions ;  and  over  his 
shoulders  was  slung  a  fierce-looking  creature,  the  great 
wildcat  or  lynx  of  America  {Lynx  Canadensis), 
The  bird  in  his  bag  was  the  golden  eagle  {Aquila 
chrysaetos),  one  of  the  few  feathered  creatures  that 
brave  the  fierce  winter  of  a  northern  climate,  and  does 
not  migrate,  like  its  congeners  the  **  white-head  "  and 
the  ospray,  to  more  southern  regions. 

Basil  had  returned  alone  —  for  the  three,  Basil, 
Norman,  and  Fran9ois,  had  taken  different  directions 
at  setting  out.  This  they  had  done,  in  order  to.have 
as  great  a  number  of  chances  as  possible  of  finding  the 
game.  Norman  came  in  a  few  minutes  after,  bearing 
a  whole  deer  upon  his  shoulders  —  a  glad  sight  that 
was  —  and,  a  short  interval  having  passed,  Fran9oi3' 
** hurrah"  sounded  upon  their  ears,  and  Fran9ois 
himself  was  seen  coming  up  the  valley  loaded  like  a 
little  donkey  with  two  bunches  of  large  snow-white 
birds. 

The  camp  now  exhibited  a  cheering  sight  Such  a 
variety  was  never  seen  even  in  the  larder  of  a  palace 
kitchen.  The  ground  was  strewed  with  animals  like 
a  dead  menagerie.  There  were  no  less  than  a  djzen 
kinds  upon  it. 


r24 


THE  ARCTIC   FOX  AND    WHITE    WllF. 


The  hare-Boup  was  now  quite  ready,  and 
accordingly  served  np  bj  Locien  in  the  test  style. 
Lucien  had  dried  a  fresh  **  grist "  of  the  tea-leaves, 
and  a  cheering  cup  followed  ;  and  then  tlie  party  all 
sat  around  their  log-fire,  while  each  of  them  detailed 
the  history  of  his  experience  since  parving  with  the 
others. 

Francois  was  the  first  to  relate  wb#  i«d  bdkllw 


n 


U     ^ 


II 


JKBTALCON,  ETC. 


825 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 


THB  JEl'.PAXON  AND  THB  WHITE  OROUIB. 


**  Mine,"  began  Frangois,  "  was  a  bird  adventure, 
M  you  all  &13  —  though  what  kind  of  birds  Tre  shot 
/can't  tell.  One  of  them's  a  hawk,  Fni  sure  ;  but  it's 
a  tphits  bawl  <.,  and  that  I  never  saw  before.  The  rest, 
I  suppose;  ff'  V  white  partridges.  Every  thing  appears 
to  be  white  ?  it>9.    What  are  they,  Luce  ?  " 

"  You  are  xyht  about  this  first,"  answered  Lucien, 
taking  up  ono  n  the  birds  which  Franpois  had  brought 
back  wiA  bin?,  And  which  was  white  all  but  a  few 
spots  of  clove-1  own  upon  its  back.  "  This  is  a  hawk, 
as  you  may  tel>  by  its  appearance,  or  rather  I  should 
say  a  '  falcon,'  ^t  you  must  know  there  is  a  differ- 
ence." 

"  What  differei  e?  "  demanded  Fran9ois,  with  some 
eagerness  of  man  er. 

^  Why,  the  priucipal  difference  is  the  formation  of 
their  beaks  or  bills.  The  bills  of  the  true  falcons  are 
stronger,  and  have  a  notch  in  the  lower  mandible  an* 
9wering  to  a  tooth  in  the  upper  one.  Their  nostrils, 
1x)0,  are  differently  formed.  But  another  })oint  of  dis- 
tinction is  found  in  their  habits.  Both  feed  on 
warm-blooded  animals,  and  neither  will  eat  carrion. 
In  this  respect  the  hawks  and  falcons  are  alike.  Both 
take  their  prey  upon  the  wing ;  but  herein  lies  fhm 


826 


THE  J1.RF4LC0N   AND 


eUffcrence.  The  hawks  e»;pture  it  by  skimming  along 
horizontally  or  obliquely,  and  picking  it  up  as  they 
pass ;  whereas  the  true  f-ilcons  '  pounce '  down  upon 
it  from  abovd,  and  in  a  line  nearly  vertical." 

"Then  this  must  be  a  true  falcon,"  interrupted 
Franfois,  "  for  I  saw  the  gentleman  do  that  very 
thing ;  and  beautifully  he  did  it,  too." 

"It  is  a  falcon,"  continued  Lucien;  "and  of  the 
many  species  of  hawks  which  inhabit  North  America 
—over  twenty  in  all  —  it  is  one  of  the  boldest  and 
handsomest.  I  don't  wonder  you  never  saw  it  before ; 
for  it  is  truly  a  bird  of  the  northern  regions,  and  does 
not  qome  so  far  south  as  the  territory  of  the  United 
States,  much  less  into  Louisiana.  It  is  found  in  North 
Europe,  Greenland,  and  Iceland,  and  has  botiu  seen  as 
far  north  on  both  continents  as  human  beings  have 
travelled.  It  is  known  by  the  name  of  'jerfalcon,'  or 
'gyrfalcon,'  but  its  zoological  name  is  Falco  Man- 
dicus" 

"  The  Indians  here,"  interposed  Norman,  "  call  it 
by  a  name  that  means  '  winter  bird,'  or  *  winterer '  — 
I  suppose,  because  it  is  one  of  the  few  that  stay  in 
these  parts  all  the  year  round,  and  is  therefore  often 
noticed  by  them  in  winter  time.  The  traders  some- 
times call  it  the  '  speckled  partridge-hawk,*  for  there 
are  some  jf  them  more  spotted  than  this  one  is." 

"  True,"  said  Lucien  ;  "  the  young  ones  are  nearly 
of  a  brown  color,  and  they  first  become  spotted  or 
mottled  after  a  year  or  two.  They  are  several  years, 
old  before  they  get  the  white  plumage,  and  very  fem 
individuals  are  seen  of  a  pure  white  all  over,  though 
there  are  some  without  a  spot <  v. 


THE   WHITE   GROUSE. 


327 


*  Yes,"  continued  the  naturalist, "  it  is  the  jerfalcon : 
und  those  other  birds  which  you  call  'white  par- 
tridges,' are  the  very  creatures  upon  which  it  preys. 
So  you  have  killed  both  the  tyrant  and  his  victims. 
They  are  not  partridges  though,  but  grouse  —  that 
species  known  as  'willow  grouse'  {Tctrao  scdiceti).'* 

And  as  Lucien  said  this,  he  began  to  handle  the 
birds,  which  we  -e  of  a  beautiful  white  all  over,  with 
the  exception  of  the  tail  feathers.  These  last  were 
pitch-black. 

"  Ho ! "  exclaimed  Lucien,  in  some  surprise,  "  you 
have  two  kinds  here  I  Were  they  all  together  when 
you  shot  them  ?  " 

"  No,"  answered  Fran9ois ;  **  one  I  shot  along  with 
tlie  hawk  out  in  the  open  ground.  All  the  others  I 
killed  upon  a  tree  in  a  piece  of  woods  that  I  fell  in 
with.  There's  no  diJBTerence  between  them  that  i 
can  se«." 

"  But  I  can,"  said  Lucien,  "  although  I  acknowledge 
they  all  look  very  much  alike.  Both  are  feathered  to 
the  toes  —  both  have  the  black  feathers  in  the  tail  — 
and  the  bills  of  both  are  black ;  but  if  you  observe 
closely,  this  kind  —  the  willow-grouse  —  has  the  bill 
much  stronger  and  less  flattened.  Besides,  h  is  a 
larger  bird  than  the  other,  which  is  '  the  rock  i^rouse  * 
(Tetrao  rupestris).  Both  are  sometime  ,  though 
erroneously,  called  '  ptarmigan ; '  but  they  are  not  the 
true  ptarmigan  ( Tetrao  mutus)  —  such  as  exist  hi 
North  Europe  —  though  these  last  are  also  to  be  met 
with  in  the  northern  parts  of  America.  The  ptar- 
migan are  somewbat  larger  than  either  of  these  kindcy 
but  m  other  respects  differ  but  little  from  them. 


I 


l! 


S28 


THE  JEBFALCOK   AND 


"  The  haoits  of  the  *  rock  *  and  *  willow '  grouse  are 
very  similar.  They  are  both  birds  of  the  snowy  re- 
gions, and  are  found  as  far  north  as  has  been  explored. 
The  willow-grouse  in  winter  keep  more  among  the 
trees,  and  are  oftener  met  with  in  wooded  countries ; 
w  ereas  the  others  like  best  to  live  in  the  open  ground, 
and,  from  your  statement,  it  appears  you  found  each 
kmd  in  its  favorite  haunt." 

"Just  so,"  said  Franyois.  "After  leaving  here,  I 
kept  down  the  valley,  and  was  just  crossing  an  open 
piece  of  high  ground,  when  I  espied  the  white  hawk, 
or  falcon  as  you  call  it,  hovering  in  the  air  as  I'd  often 
seen  hawks  do.  Well,  I  stopped  and  hid  behind  a 
rock,  thinking  I  might  i:ave  a  chance  to  put  a  few 
drops  into  him.  All  at  once  Le  appeared  to  stand  still 
in  the  air,  and,  then  closing  his  wings,  shot  down  like 
an  arrow.  Just  then  I  heard  a  loud  '  whir-r-r^  and 
up  started  a  whole  covey  of  white  cartridges  — grouse, 
I  should  say  —  the  same  as  this  you  call  the  '  rock- 
grouse.'  I  saw  that  the  hawk  had  missed  the  whole 
of  them,  and  I  marked  them  as  they  flew  off.  They 
pitched  about  a  hundred  yards  or  so,  and  then  went 
plunge  under  the  snow  —  every  one  of  them  making 
a  hole  for  itself  just  like  where  one  had  poked  their 
foot  in !  I  guess,  boys,  this  looked  funny  enough.  I 
thought  I  would  be  sure  to  get  a  shot  at  some  of  these 
grouse  as  they  came  out  again-;  so  I  walked  straight 
up  to  the  holes  they  had  made,  and  stood  waiting.  I 
iitillsaw  the  hawk  hovering  in  the  air,  aboat  a  hundred 
yards  ahead  of  me. 

"  I  was  considering  whether  I  ought  to  go  farlhef 
on^  and  tramp  the  birds  out  of  the  snow ;  for  I  be- 


THE    WHITE    6B0USB. 


J29 


fieved,  of  course,  they  were  still  unde.:  the  place 
where  the  holes  were.  All  at  once  T  joticed  a  move- 
ment on  the  crust  of  the  snow  r'^ht  under  where  the 
hawk  was  flying,  and  then  tLat  individual  shot  dowu 
to  the  spot,  and  disappeared  under  the  snow  I  Al 
the  same  instant,  the  crust  broke  in  several  places, 
and  up  came  the  grouse,  one  after  another,  and 
whirred  off  out  of  sight,  without  giving  me  any  sort 
of  a  chance.  The  hawk,  however,  had  not  come  up 
yet ;  and  I  ran  forward,  determined  to  take  him  as 
soon  as  he  should  make  his  appearance.  When  I 
had  got  within  shooting  distance,  up  he  fluttered  to 
the  surface,  and, —  what  do  you  think?  —  he  had  one 
of  the  grouse  struggling  in  his  claws !  I  l«t  him 
have  the  right  barrel,  and  both  he  and  grousy  were 
knocked  dead  as  a  couple  of  door-nails. 

"I  thought  I  might  fJl  in  with  the  -  again, 

and  kept  on  in  the  direction  they  had  taker.,  which 
hx  jght  me  at  last  to  a  piece  of  woodland  consisting  of 
birches  and  willow-trees.  As  I  was  walking  along  the 
edge  of  this,  I  noticed  one  of  the  willows,  at  some  dis- 
tance off,  covered  with  great  white  things,  that  at  first  1 
took  for  flakes  of  snow ;  but  then  I  thought  it  curious 
that  none  of  the  other  tree"  had  the  same  upon  them. 
A.S  I  came  a  little  nearer,  I  noticed  one  of  the  things 
moving,  and  then  I  sa ./  they  were  birds,  and  very  like 
the  same  I  had  just  seen,  and  was  then  in  search  of. 
So  I  crept  in  among  the  trees  ;  and,  after  some  dodg 
ing,  got  within  beautiful  shooting  distance,  and  gave 
them  both  barrels.    There,  you  see  the  result  I  * 

Here  Fran9ois  triumphantly  pointed  to  the  pile  of 


\ 


530 


THE  JERFALCOM,  ETC. 


birds,  which  in  all,  with  the  jerfalcon,  counted  fouf 
brace  and  a  half. 

One  was  the  rock-grouse,  which  the  falcon  had 
itself  killed,  and  the  others  were  willow-grouse,  as 
Lucien  had  stated.  Francois  now  remained  silenti 
while  Basil  related  his  day's  adventure. 


i    ifl 


if* 


^l 


;l     "1 


•THE  HARE,  THE   LTNX,   ETC. 


881 


If 


id 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 


rnS  HARE,  THE  LTNX,  AlHD  THE  GOLDEN  BAGLB 


"Frank,"  began  he,  "has  called  his  a  'bird  ad- 
venture.' I  might  give  mine  somewhat  of  the  same 
title,  for  there  was  a  bird  mixed  up  with  it  —  the  noblest 
of  all  birds  —  the  eagle.     But  you  shall  hear  it. 

"  On  leaving  the  camp,  I  went,  as  you  all  know,  up 
the  valley.  After  travelling  for  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
or  so,  I  came  upon  a  wide  open  bottom,  where  there 
were  some  scattered  willows  and  clumps  of  dwarf 
birch-trees.  As  Luce  had  told  me  that  such  are  the 
favorite  food  of  the  American  hare,  or,  as  we  call  it  in 
Louisiana,  '  rabbit,'  I  looked  out  for  the  sign  of  one, 
and,  sure  enough,  I  soon  came  upon  a  track,  which  I 
knew  to  be  that  of  '  puss.'  It  was  fresh  enough,  and 
I  followed  it.  It  kept  me  meandering  about  for  a 
long  while,  till  at  last  I  saw  that  it  to  a  straight 
course  for  some  thick  brushwood,  with  two  or  three 
low  birches  growing  out  of  it.  As  I  made  sure  of 
finding  the  game  there,  I  crept  forward  very  quietly, 
holding  Marengo  in  the  leash.  But  the  hare  was  not 
in  the  brush ;  and,  after  tramping  all  through  it,  I 
agsiiii  noticed  the  track  where  she  had  gone  out  on  the 
opposite  side.  I  was  about  starting  forth  to  follow 
it,  when  all  at  once  an  odd-looking  creature  made 
Its  appearance  right  before  me.    It  was  that  fellow 


THE   HA.BE,   THE   LYNX.   AND 


W 


•^ 


s*^. 


there  ! "  And  Basil  pointed  to  the  lynx.  **  I  thought 
at  first  sight,"  continued  he,  ''  it  was  our  Louisiana 
wildcat  or  bay  lynx,  as  Luce  calls  it,  for  it  is  very 
like  our  cat ;  but  I  saw  it  was  nearly  twice  as  big,  and 
more  grayish  in  the  fur.  Well,  when  I  first  sighted 
the  creature,  it  was  about  a  hundred  yards  off.  It 
hadn't  seen  me,  though,  for  it  was  not  running  awayi 
but  skulking  along  slowly  —  nearly  crosswise  to  the 
oourse  of  the  hare's  track  —  and  looking  in  a  different 
direction  to  that  in  which  I  was.  I  was  well  screened 
behind  the  bushes,  and  that,  no  doubt,  prevented  i\ 
from  noticing  me.  At  first  I  thought  of  running  for- 
ward,  and  setting  Marengo  after  it.  Then  I  deter- 
mined on  staying  where  I  was,  and  watching  it  a 
while.  Perhaps  it  may  come  to  a  stop,  reflected  I, 
and  let  me  creep  within  shot.  I  remained,  therefore, 
crouching  among  the  bushes,  and  kept  the  dog  at 
my  feet. 

"  As  I  continued  to  watch  the  cat,  I  saw  that,  in- 
stead of  following  a  straight  line,  it  was  moving  in  a 
circle ! 

"  The  diameter  of  this  circle  was  not  over  a  hun- 
dred yards ;  and  in  a  very  short  while  the  animal  had 
got  once  round  the  circumference,  and  came  back  to 
where  I  had  first  seen  it.  It  did  not  stop  there,  but  ccm- 
tiiiued  on,  though  not  in  its  old  tracks.  It  still  walked 
in  a  circle,  but  a  much  smaller  one  than  before.  Both, 
however,  had  a  common  centre;  and,  as  I  noticed 
that  the  animal  kept  its  eyes  constantly  turned  tow  ards 
the  centre,  I  felt  satisfied  that  in  that  place  would  be 
found  the  cause  of  its  strange  manoeuvring.  I  looked 
to  the  centre.    At  first  I  could  see  nothing — at  least 


M 


THE   GOLDEN   EA  QLE. 


333 


nothing  that  might  be  supposed  to  attract  the  cat. 
There  was  a  very  small  bush  of  willows,  but  they 
w(jre  thin.     I  could  see  distinctly  through  them,  and 
there  was  no  creature  there,  either  in  the  bush  ui 
around  it.    The  snow  lay  white  up  to  the  roots  of  the 
willows,  and  I  thought  that  a  mouse  could  hardly  have 
found  shelter  among  them,  without  my  seeing  it  from 
where  1  stood.    Still  I  could  not  explain  the  odd  actions 
of  the  lynx  ui)On  any  other  principle  than  that  it  was 
in  the  pursuit  of  game ;  and  I  looked  again,  and  care- 
fully examined  every  inch  of  the  ground  as  my  eyes 
passed  over  it.     This  time  I  discovered  what  the  ani- 
mal was  after.     Close  in  to  the  willows  appeared  two 
little  parallel  streaks  of  a  dark  color,  just  rising  above 
the  surface  of  the  snow.    I  should  not  have  noticed 
them  had  there  not  been  two  of  them,  and  these  slant- 
ing in  the  same  direction.    They  had  caught  my  eyes 
before,  but  I  had  taken  them  for  the  points  of  broken 
willows.    I  now  saw  that  they  were  the  ears  of  some 
animal,  and  I  thought  that  once  or  twice  they  moved 
slightly  while  I  was  regarding  them.     After  looking 
at  them  steadily  for  a  time,  I  made  out  the  shape  of  a 
little  head  underneath.    It  was  white,  but  there  was  a 
round  dark  spot  in  the  middle,  which  I  knew  to  be  an 
eye.    There  was  no  body  to  be  seen.    That  was  under 
the  snow,  but  it  was  plain  enough  that  what  I  saw 
was  the  bead  of  a  hare.    At  first  I  supposed  it  to 
be  a  Polar  hare  —  such  as  we  had  just  killed  —  but 
the  tracks  I  had  followed  were  not  those  of  the  Polar 
hare.    Then  I  remembered  that  the  •  rabbit '  of  the 
United  States  also  turns  white  in  the  winter  of  the 
northern  regions.    This,  then,  must  be  the  American 
rabbit,  thought  I. 


^ 


a84 


THIi.  HABE,  THE  LTNX,  AND 


"  Of  course  my  reflections  did  not  occupy  all  tfa« 
time  I  have  taken  in  describing  them.  Only  a  mo- 
ment or  80.  All  the  while  the  lynx  was  moving  round 
and  round  the  circle,  but  still  getting  nearer  to  the 
hare  that  appeared  eagerly  to  watch  it.  I  remembered 
how  Norman  had  manoeuvred  to  get  within  shot  of  the 
Polar  hare ;  and  I  now  saw  the  very  same  rtue  being 
piactised  by  a  dumb  creature,  that  is  supposed  to 
have  no  other  guide  than  instinct.  But  I  had  seen 
the  'bay  lynx'  of  Louisiana  do  some  Modges'  as 
cunning  as  that, — such  as  claying  his  feet  to  make 
the  hounds  lose  the  scent,  and,  after  running  back- 
wards  and  forwards  upon  a  fallen  log,  leap  into  the 
tops  of  trees,  and  get  off  in  that  way.  Believing  that 
his  northern  cousin  was  just  as  artful  aa  himself" 
(here  Basil  looked  significantly  at  the  "  Captain,")  "  J 
did  not  so  much  wonder  at  the  performance  I  now 
witnessed.  Nevertheless,  I  felt  a  great  curiosity  to 
see  it  out.  But  for  this  curiosity  I  could  have  shot 
the  lynx  every  time  he  passed  me  on  the  nearer  edge 
of  the  circle.  Bound  and  round  he  went,  then,  until 
he  was  not  twenty  feet  from  the  hare,  that,  strange  to 
Bay,  seemed  to  regard  this,  the  worst  of  her  enemies, 
more  with  wonder  than  fear.  The  lynx  at  length 
stopped  suddenly,  brought  his  four  feet  close  together, 
arched  his  back  like  an  angry  cat,  and  then,  with  one 
immense  bound,  sprang  forward  upon  his  victim.  The 
hare  had  only  time  to  leap  out  of  her  form,  and  the 
second  spring  of  the  lynx  brought  him  right  upon  the 
top  of  hor.  I  could  hear  the  child-like  scream  which 
the  American  rabbit  always  utters  when  thus  seized ; 
but  the  cloud  of  snow-spray  raised  above  the  spot 


TUB   OOLDEir    EAOLE. 


395 


prevented  me  for  a  while  from  seeing  either  l^nx  or 
hare.  The  scream  was  stifled  in  a  moment,  and  when 
the  snow^spray  cleared  off,  I  saw  that  the  lynx  held 
the  hare  under  his  paws,  and  that '  puss '  was  quite 
ioad. 

"  I  was  considering  how  I  might  best  steal  up  with- 
in shooting  distance,  when,  all  at  once,  I  heard  another 
scream  of  a  very  different  sort.  At  the  same  time  a 
dark  shadow  passed  over  the  snow.  I  looked  up,  and 
there,  within  fifty  yards  of  the  ground,  a  great  big 
bird  was  wheeling  about.  I  knew  it  to  be  an  eagle 
from  its  shape ;  and  at  first  I  fancied  it  was  a  young 
one  of  the  white-headed  kind —  for,  as  you  are  aware, 
these  do  not  have  either  the  white  head  or  tail  until 
<;hey  are  several  years  old.  Its  immense  size,  how  • 
ever,  showed  that  it  could  not  be  one  of  these.  It 
must  be  the  great  'golden '  eagle  of  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains, thought  I. 

"  When  I  first  noticed  it,  I  fancied  that  it  had  been 
after  the  rabbit ;  and,  seeing  the  latter  pounced  upon 
by  another  preying  creature,  had  uttered  its  scream  ai 
being  thus  disappointed  of  its  prey.  I  expected, 
therefore,  to  see  it  fly  off.  To  my  astonishment  it 
broke  suddenly  out  of  the  circles  in  which  it  had  been 
so  gracefully  wheeling,  and,  with  another  scream 
wilder  than  before,  darted  down  towards  the  lynx  I 

"  The  latter,  on  hearing  the  fijrst  cry  of  the  eaglei 
nad  started,  dropped  his  prey,  and  looked  up.  In  the 
eagle  he  evidently  recognized  an  antagonist,  for  his 
back  suddenly  became  arched,  his  fur  bristled  up,  his 
short  tail  moved  quickly  from  side  to  eidc,  and  he 
stood  with  glaring  eyes,  and  claws  ready  to  receive 
the  attack. 


sm 


«36 


THE  HARE,  THE  LYNX,  AND 


^  Afl  the  eagle  came  down,  its  legs  and  claws  wora 
thrown  forward,  and  I  could  then  tell  it  was  not  a  bald 
eagle,  nor  the  great  '  Washington  eagle,'  nor  yet  a 
fishing  eagle  of  anj  sort,  which  both  of  these  are. 
The  fishing  eagles,  as  Lucien  had  told  me,  have  cdtoayi 
naked  legs,  while  those  of  the  true  eagles  are  more 
feathered.  So  were  his,  but  beyond  the  feathers  I 
could  see  his  great  curved  talons,  as  he  struck  forward 
at  the  lynx.  He  evidently  touched  and  wounded  the 
animal,  but  the  wound  only  served  to  make  it  more 
angry ;  and  I  could  hear  it  purring  and  spitting  like  a 
tom-cat,  only  far  louder.  The  eagle  again  mounted 
babk  into  the  air,  but  soon  wheeled  round  and  shot 
down  a  second  time.  This  time  the  lynx  sprang 
forward  to  meet  it,  and  I  could  hear  the  concussion  of 
their  bodies  as  they  came  together.  I  think  the  eagle 
must  have  been  crippled,  so  that  it  could  not  fly  up 
Again,  for  the  fight  from  that  time  was  carried  on  upon 
the  ground.  The  lynx  seemed  anxious  to  grasp  some 
pan  of  his  antagonist's  body  —  and  at  times  I  thought 
he  had  succeeded  —  but  then  he  was  beaten  ofl^  again 
by  the  bird,  that  fought  furiously  with  wings,  beak, 
and  talons.  The  lynx  now  appeared  to  be  the  attack- 
ing party,  as  I  saw  him  repeatedly  spring  forward  at 
the  eagle,  while  the  latter  always  received  him  upon 
its  claws,  lying  with  its  back  upon  the  snow.  Both 
fur  and  feathers  flew  in  every  direction,  and  sometim^is 
the  combatants  were  so  covered  with  the  snow-spray 
that  I  could  see  neither  of  them. 

"  I  watched  the  conflict  for  several  minutes,  until  it 
occurred  to  me,  that  my  best  time  to  get  near  enough 
for  a  shot  was  jrst  while  they  were  in  the  thick  of  it 


fti 


I  :i 


3U1S   GOLDEN    BAOLB. 


sa? 


and  not  likely  to  heed  me.  I  therefore  moved  silently 
out  of  the  bushes ;  and,  keeping  Marengo  in  the  string, 
crept  forward.  I  had  but  the  one  bullet  to  give  them, 
and  with  that  I  could  not  shoot  both ;  but  I  knew  that 
the  quadruped  was  eatable,  and,  as  I  was  not  sure 
about  the  bird,  I  very  easily  made  choice,  and  shot  the 
lynx.  To  my  surprise  the  eagle  did  not  fly  off,  and  I 
now  saw  that  one  of  its  wings  was  disabled  I  He  was 
still  strong  enough,  however,  to  scratch  Marengo 
severely  before  the  latter  could  master  him.  As  to 
the  lynx,  he  had  been  roughly  handled.  His  skin  was 
torn  in  several  places,  and  one  of  his  eyes,  as  you  see, 
regularly  *  gouged  out.' " 

Here  Basil  ended  his  narration ;  and  after  an  inter- 
▼al,  during  which  some  fresh  wood  was  chopped  and 
thrown  upon  the  fire,  Norman,  in  turn,  oommenoed 
■elating  wnat  had  befallen  him. 
32 


888 


1HB   **ALABM   BIHS      AMD 


■  i 


CHAPTER  XXXVn. 

* 

THE  <« ALARM  BIRD"  AND  THB  CARIBOU. 

'^Therb  wasn't  much  <  adventure '  in  mj  d»f§ 
iport,"  said  he,  "  though  I  might  call  it  a  '  bird*adTeD- 
ture '  too,  for  if  it  hadn't  been  for  a  bird  I  shouldn't 
bave  had  it.  I  shot  a  deer  —  that's  all.  But  may  be 
it  would  be  curious  for  you  to  know  how  I  came  to  find 
the  animal,  so  I'll  tell  you. 

''The  first  thing  I  did  after  leaving  here  was  to 
climb  the  hill  yonder "  —  here  Norman  pointed  to  m 
long  hill  that  sloped  up  from  the  opposite  shore  of  the 
lake,  and  which  was  the  directioa  he  had  taken,  as 
Rasil  and  Fran9ois  had  gone  right  and  left. 

"  I  saw  neither  bird,  beast,  nor  track,  until  I  had 
reached  the  top  of  the  hill.  There  I  got  a  good  view 
of  the  country  ahead.  I  saw  it  was  very  rocky, 
without  a  stick  of  timber,  and  did  not  look  very 
promising  for  game.  '  It's  no  use  going  that  way, 
I  says  to  myself ;  *  I'll  keep  along  the  ridge,  above 
where  Frank's  gone.  He  may  drive  some  varmint 
out  of  the  hollow,  and  I'll  get  a  crack  at  it,  as  it  comes 
over  the  hill.' 

"  I  was  about  to  turn  to  the  left  when  I  heard  the 
skreek  of  a  bird  away  ahead  of  me.  I  looked  in  tliat 
direction ;  and,  sure  enough,  saw  one  wheeling  about 
in  the  ail',  right  above  the  rocky  jumb',*"  wUh  which 
the  country  was  covered 


THE   CARIBOU. 


SH9 


the 
liat 
out 
licli 


**  Now  it's  A  mightjr  curious  bird  that  I  saw.  It's  a 
lort  of  an  owl,  but,  I  should  say  myself,  there's  a 
sprinkling  of  the  hawk  in  it  —  for  it's  as  much  like 
the  one  as  the  other." 

**  No  doubt,"  interrupted  Lucien,  "  it  was  one  of  th« 
day  owls  of  these  northern  regions,  some  of  which 
approach  very  near  to  the  hawks,  both  in  shape  and 
habits.  This  peculiarity  arises  from  the  fact  of  the 
long  summer  day  —  of  weeks  in  duration  —  within  the 
Arctic  circle,  requiring  them  to  hunt  for  their  prey, 
just  as  hawks  do;  and  therefore  Nature  has  gifted 
them  with  certain  peculiarities  that  make  them  resem* 
ble  these  birds.  They  want  the  very  broad  faces  and 
large  tufted  heads  of  the  true  owls  ;  besides  the  ears, 
which  in  the  latter  are  remarkable  for  their  size,  and 
also  for  being  operculated,  or  with  lids,  in  the  former 
are  not  much  larger  than  in  other  birds  of  prey.  The 
small  hawk'owl  {Strix  funerea)j  which  is  altogether 
a  northern  bird,  is  one  of  this  kind." 

"Very  well,"  continued  Norman,  "what  you  say 
may  be  very  true,  cousin  Luce ;  I  only  know  that  the 
bird  I  am  speaking  about  is  a  mighty  curious  little 
creature.  It  ain't  bigger  than  a  pigeon,  and  is  of  a 
mottled  brown  color ;  but  what  I  call  it  curious  for  is 
this :  —  Whenever  it  sees  any  creature  passing  from 
place  to  place,  it  mounts  up  into  the  air,  and  hovert 
above  them,  keeping  up  a  constant  screeching,  like  the 
squalling  of  a  child  —  and  that's  any  thing  but  agree* 
able.  It  does  so,  not  only  in  the  neighborhood  of  its 
nest  —  like  the  plover  and  some  other  birds  —  but  it 
will  sometimes  follow  a  travelling  party  for  hours 
together,  and  for  miles  across  the  country     From  this 


840 


THE   "alarm   BIKD*  AND 


circumstance  the  Inui^ins  of  these  parts  call  it  the 
'alarm  bird,*  or  'bird  of  warning,'  because  it  often 
makes  them  aware  of  the  approach  either  of  their 
enemies  or  of  strangers.  Sometimes  it  alarms  and 
startles  the  game,  while  the  hunter  is  crawling  up  to 
it ;  and  I  have  known  it  to  bother  mvself  for  a  while 
of  a  day,  when  I  was  after  grouse.  It's  a  great  favor- 
ite with  the  Indians,  though  —  as  ii  often  guides  them 
to  deer,  or  musk-oxen,  by  its  flying  and  screaming 
above  where  these  animals  are  feeding. 

"  Just  in  the  same  way  it  guided  me.  I  knew,  from 
the  movements  of  the  bird,  that  there  must  be  some* 
thing  among  the  rocks.  ^  couldn't  tell  what,  but  I 
hoped  it  would  turn  out  to  be  some  creature  that  was 
eatable ;  so  I  changed  my  intention,  and  struck  out  for 
the  place  where  it  was. 

''It  was  a  good  half  mile  from  the  hill,  and  it  cost 
me  considerable  clambering  over  the  rocks  before  I 
reached  the  ground.  I  thought  to  get  near  enough  to 
see  what  it  was,  withoiu  drawing  the  bird  upon  my- 
self, and  I  crouched  xrom  hummock  to  hummock ;  but 
the  sharp-eyed  creature  caught  sight  ol  me,  and  came 
screeching  over  my  head.  I  kept  on  without  noticing 
it ;  but  as  I  was  o'^liged  to  go  round  some  large  rocks, 
I  lost  the  direction,  and  soon  found  m;;  self  wandering 
back  into  my  own  trail.  I  couh'  do  nothing,  therefore, 
until  the  bird  should  leave  me,  and  fly  back  to  what- 
ever had  first  set  it  a-going.  In  order  that  ii,  might 
do  so,  I  crept  in  under  a  big  stone  that  jutted  out  and 
lay  quiet  a  bit,  watching  it.  It  soon  flew  off,  and  com- 
menced wheeling  about  in  the  air,  noi  more  than  three 
hund^'ed  yards  from  where  I  lay.     This  time  I  took 


THE   CARIBOU. 


841 


.  \ 


go*  id  bearings,  and  then  went  on.  I  did  not  care  for 
*he  bird  to  guide  me  any  longer,  for  I  observed  thera 
was  an  open  spot  ahead,  and  I  was  sure  that  there  I 
would  see  something.  And  sure  enough  I  did.  On 
peeping  round  the  end  of  a  rock,  I  spied  a  herd  of 
about  fifty  deer.  They  were  reindeer,  of  course,  aa 
there  are  no  others  upon  the  *  Barren  Grounds,'  and 
I  saw  they  were  all  does  —  for  at  this  season  the 
bucks  keep  altogether  in  the  woods.  Some  of  them 
were  pawing  the  snow  to  get  at  the  moss,  while  others 
were  standing  by  the  rocks,  and  tearing  off  the  lichens 
With  their  teeth.  It  so  happened  that  1  had  the  wind 
of  them,  else  they  would  have  scented  me  and  made 
off,  for  I  was  within  a  hundred  yards  of  the  nearest. 
I  was  not  afraid  of  their  taking  fright,  so  long  as  they 
coL'^a  ^nly  see  part  of  my  body  —  for  these  deer  are 
BO  stupid,  or  ruther  so  curious,  that  almost  any  thing 
will  draw  them  within  shot.  Knowing  this,  I  prac> 
tised  a  trick  that  had  oflen  helped  me  before ;  and 
that  was  to  move  the  barrel  of  my  gun  up  and  down, 
with  the  same  sort  of  motion  as  the  deer  make  with 
their  horns,  when  rubbing  their  necks  against  a  rock 
or  tree.  If  I'd  had  a  set  of  antlers,  it  would  have 
been  all  the  better;  but  the  other  answered  well 
enough.  It  happened  the  animals  were  not  very  wild, 
as,  likely,  they  hadn't  been  hunted  for  a  good  while. 
I  bellowed  at  the  same  >'ime  —  for  I  know  how  to  im- 
itnte  their  call  —  and,  \a  less  than  a  minute's  time,  I 
got  several  of  them  within  range.  Then  I  took  aim, 
and  knocked  one  over,  and  the  rest  ran  off.  That," 
said  Korman,  "  ended  my  adventure  —  unless  you  caU 
the  carrj-ing  a  good  hundred  pounds*  weight  of  deer* 


342 


THE   "ALABJf   BIRD  **  AND 


meat  all  (Le  wav  hack  to  c&vap  part  of  it.  If  so,  I  caa 
assure  you  that  it  was  by  far  the  most  unpleasant 
part." 

Here  Norman  finished  his  narration,  and  a  conver* 
sation  was  carried  on  upon  the  subject  of  reindeer, 
Ar,  as  these  animals  are  termed  in  America,  "  caribou." 

Lucien  said  that  the  reindeer  (Gervua  tarandiu)  ia 
found  in  tlie  northern  regions  of  Europe  and  Asia 
as  well  as  in  America,  but  that  there  were  several 
varieties  of  them,  and  perhaps  there  were  different 
species.  Those  of  Lapland  are  most  celebrated, 
because  they  not  only  draw  sledges,  but  also  furnuU 
food,  clothing,  and  many  other  commodities  for  theii 
owners.  In  the  north  of  Asia,  the  Tungusians  havo 
a  much  larger  sort,  which  they  ride  upon ;  and  the 
Koreki,  who  dwell  upon  the  borders  of  Kamschatka, 
possess  vast  herds  of  reindeer  -^  some  rich  individu* 
als  owning  as  many  as  ten  or  twenty  thousand  1 

It  is  not  certain  that  the  reindeer  of  America  is 
exactly  the  same  as  either  of  the  kinds  mentioned ; 
and  indeed  in  America  itself  there  are  two  very  dis- 
tinct kinds  —  perhaps  a  third.  Two  kinds  are  well 
known  that  differ  from  each  other  in  size,  and  also  in 
habits.  One  is  the  "  Barren  Ground  caribou,"  and 
the  other,  the  "  Woodland  caribou."  The  former  ia 
one  of  the  smallest  of  the  deer  kind  —  the  bucki 
weighing  little  over  one  hundred  pounds.  Aa  its 
name  implies,  it  frequents  the  Barren  Grounds,  al- 
though in  winter  it  also  seeks  the  shelter  of  wooded 
tracts.  Upon  the  Barren  Grounds,  and  the  desoUite 
shores  and  islands  of  the  Arctic  Sea,  it  is  the  only 
kini  of  deer  found,  except  at  one  or  two  points,  aa  th* 


TBE   CARIBOU. 


UA 


mouth  of  the  Maxskenzie  River — which  happens  to 
be  a  wooded  country,  and  there  the  moose  also  is  met 
with.  Nature  seems  to  have  gifted  the  Barren 
Ground  caribou  with  such  tastes  and  habits,  that  a 
fertile  country  and  a  genial  clime  would  not  be  a 
pleasant  home  for  it.  It  seems  adapted  to  the  bleak, 
sterile  countries  in  which  it  dwells,  and  where  its 
favorite  food  —  the  mosses  and  lichens  —  is  round. 
In  the  short  summer  of  the  Arctic  regions,  it  ranges 
still  farther  north;  and  its  traces  have  been  found 
wherever  the  northern  navigators  have  gone.  It 
must  remain  among  the  icy  islands  of  the  Arctic  Sea 
until  winter  be  considerably  advanced,  or  until*  the 
sea  is  so  frozen  as  to  allow  it  to  get  back  to  the 
shores  of  tt3  continent. 

The  "Woodland  caribou"  is  a  larger  variety — a 
Woodland  doe  being  about  as  big  as  a  Barren  Ground 
buck  —  although  the  horns  of  the  latter  species  are 
larger  and  more  branching  than  those  of  the  former. 
The  woodland  kind  are  found  suround  the  shores  of 
Hudson's  Bay,  and  in  other  wooded  tracts  that  lie  in 
the  southern  parts  of  the  fur  countries  —  into  which 
the  Barren  Ground  caribou  never  penetrates.  They 
also  migrate  annually,  but,  strange  to  say,  their  spring 
migrations  are  southward,  while,  at  the  same  season, 
their  cousins  of  the  Barren  Grounds  are  making  theii 
way  northward  to  the  shores  of  the  Arctic  Sea.  Th> 
is  a  very  singular  difference  in  their  habits,  and  alon^ 
with  their  difference  in  bulk,  form.  Sec,  entitles  them 
to  be  ranked  as  separate  species  of  deer.  The  flesh 
of  the  Woodland  caribou  is  not  esteemed  so  good  an 
article  of  f«>od  as  that  of  the  other ;  and,  as  it  inhabit* 


S44 


THE  ^' ALARM   BIRD  '   AND 


ft  district  w/iere  many  large  animals  are  founds  it  ii 
not  considered  of  so  mv.ch  impv')rtance  in  the  economy 
rf  human  life.  The  "  Barren  Ground  caribou,"  cm 
the  other  hand,  is  an  indispensable  animal  to  various 
tribes  of  Indians,  as  well  as  to  the  Esquimaux.  With- 
out it,  these  people  would  be  unable  to  dwell  where 
thej  do ;  and  although  they  have  not  domesticated  it, 
and  trained  it  to  draught,  like  tho  Laplanders,  it 
forms  their  main  source  of  subsistence,  and  there  is  no 
part  of  its  body  which  they  do  not  turn  to  some  use- 
ful purpose.  Of  its  horns  they  form  their  fish-spears 
and  hooks,  and,  previous  to  the  introduction  of  iron 
by  the  Europeans,  their  ice-chisels  and  various  other 
utensils.  Their  scraping  or  currying  knives  are  made 
from  the  split  shin-bones.  The  skins  make  their 
clothing,  tent-covers,  beds,  and  blankets.  The  raw 
hide,  cleared  of  the  hair,  and  cut  into  thongs,  serves 
for  snares,  bow-strings,  net-lines,  and  every  other  sort 
of  ropes.  The  finer  thongs  make  netting  for  snow- 
shoes —  an  indispensable  article  to  these  people^ 
and  of  these  thongs  fish-nets  are  also  woven ;  while 
the  tendons  of  the  muscles,  when  split,  serve  for  fine 
eewing-thread.  Besides  these  uses,  the  flesh  of  the 
caribou  is  the  food  of  many  tribes,  Indians  and  Esqui- 
maux, for  most  of  the  year ;  and,  indeed,  it  may  be 
looked  upon  as  their  staple  article  of  subsistence 
There  is  hardly  any  part  of  it  (even  the  horns,  when 
soft)  that  is  not  eaten  and  relished  by  them.  Were 
it  not  for  the  immense  herds  of  these  creatures  that 
roam  over  the  country,  they  would  soon  be  extermi. 
nated  —  for  they  are  easily  approached,  and  the  Indh 
ans  have  very  little  difficulty,  during  the  summer  sem' 
ion,  in  killing  as  many  as  they  please. 


I.I 


THE    CARIBOU. 


8^5 


Normal,  next  gave  a  description  of  the  vanoua 
a.odes  of  hunting  the  caribou  practised  by  the  In- 
dians and  Esquimaux ;  such  as  driving  them  into  a 
pound,  snaring  them,  decoying  and  sliooting  them 
with  arrows,  and  also  a  singular  way  which  the 
Esquimaux  have  of  taking  thei  i  in  a  pit*trap  built  in 
the  t  now. 

"  The  sides  of  the  trap,"  said  he,  "  are  built  of 
slabs  of  snow,  cut  as  if  to  make  a  snow-house.  An 
inclined  plane  of  snow  leads  to  the  entrance  of  the  pit, 
which  is  about  five  feet  deep,  and  large  enough  within 
to  hold  several  deer.  The  exterior  of  the  trap  is  banked 
up  on  all  sides  with  snow ;  but  so  steep  are  these 
sides  left,  that  the  deer  can  only  get  up  by  the  inclined 
plane  which  leads  to  the  entrance.  A  great  sub  of 
snow  is  then  placed  over  the  mouth  of  the  pit,  and 
revolves  on  two  axles  of  wood.  This  slab  will  carrv 
the  deer  until  it  has  passed  the  line  of  the  axles 
when  its  weight  overbalances  one  side,  and  the  animal 
is  precipitated  into  the  pit.  The  slab  then  comes  back 
into  a  horizontal  position  as  before,  and  is  ready  to 
receive  another  deer.  The  animals  are  attracted  by 
moss  and  lichens  placed  for  them  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  trap  —  in  such  a  way  that  they  cannot  be 
reached  without  crossing  the  slab.  In  this  sort  of 
trap  several  deer  are  frequently  caught  during  a 
single  day." 

Norman  knew  another  mode  of  hunting  practised 
by  the  Esquimaux,  and  proposed  that  the  party  should 
proceed  in  search  of  the  herd  upon  tb-:  following  day ; 
when,  should  they  succeed  in  finding  the  deer,  h4 
would  show  them  how  the  thing  was  done ;  and  ha 


9iQ 


THE   ''ALARM   BIBD,     ETC. 


had  DO  doubt  of  their  being  able  to  make  a  good  hun 
of  it.  All  agreed  to  this  proposal,  as  it  would  be  of 
great  importance  to  them  to  kill  a  large  number  of 
these  animals.  It  is  true  they  had  now  provision  enough 
to  serve  for  several  days  —  but  there  were  peihaps 
months,  not  dayb,  to  be  provided  for.  They  believed 
tliat  they  could  not  be  far  from  the  wooded  countries 
near  the  banks  of  the  Mackenzie,  a;  some  kinds  of  the 
animal  they  had  met  with  were  only  to  be  found  nea; 
timber  during  the  winter  season^  But  what  of  that  ? 
Even  on  the  banks  of  the  great  river  itself  they  might 
not  succeed  in  procuring  game.  They  resolved,  there- 
fore, to  track  the  herd  of  deer  which  Norman  had 
iteen ;  iMid  for  this  pur|)ose  they  agreed  to  make  • 
•tay  of  wme  lays  at  their  present  camp. 


V  . 


4  BATTLE    WITU   WOLVES. 


Si7 


CHAPTER  XXXVIIL 


▲  BATTLE  WITH  WOLVES 


Next  morning  they  were  up  by  earlj  daybt«ak. 
The  days  were  now  only  a  few  hours  in  length, 
for  it  was  midwinter,  and  they  were  but  three  or 
four  degrees  south  of  tlie  Arctic  circle.  Of  course 
they  would  require  all  the  day  for  the  intended  hunt 
tf  the  caribou,  as  they  might  have  to  follow  the  track 
df  the  herd  for  many  miles  before  coming  up  with  the 
animals.  Lucien  was  to  remain  by  the  camp,  as  it 
would  never  do  to  leave  the  animals  they  had  already 
killed  without  some  guard.  To  have  hung  them  on 
the  trees  would  have  put  them  out  of  the  reach  of 
both  wolves  and  foxes ;  but  the  lynx  and  wolverene 
are  both  tree-climbers,  and  could  easily  have  got  at 
them  there.  They  had  reason  to  believe  there  were 
wolverenes  about ;  for  these  fierce  and  destructive 
beasts  are  found  in  every  part  of  the  fur  countries 
—•wherever  there  exist  other  animals  upon  which 
they  can  prey.  Eagles,  hawks,  and  owls,  moreover, 
would  have  picked  the  partridges  from  the  branches 
of  the  trees  without  difficulty.  One  proposed  bury 
ing  them  in  the  snow ;  but  Norman  assured  tiiem 
that  the  Arctic  foxes  could  scent  them  out,  and  dig 
them  up  in  a  few  minutes.  Then  it  was  suggested 
bu  tidVf)!  them  under  a  pile  of  stones,  as  there  wer« 


818 


A   BATTLE   WITH    WOLVES. 


plenty  of  these  lying  about.  To  this  Noraian  alM 
objected,  saying  that  the  wolverene  could  pull 
off  any  stones  they  were  able  to  pile  upon  them 
->-as  this  creature  in  its  fore-legs  possesses  more 
than  the  strength  of  a  man.  Besides,  it  was  not 
nnlikely  that  one  of  the  great  brown  bears  —  a  spe- 
cies entirely  different  from  either  the  black  or  grizzly 
bears,  and  which  is  only  met  with  on  the  Barren 
Grounds  —  might  come  ranging  that  way ;  and  he 
could  soon  toss  over  any  btoneheap  they  might  build. 
On  the  whole  it  was  better  that  one  of  the  four  should 
remain  by  the  camp;  and  Lucien,  who  cared  less 
about  hunting  than  any  of  them,  willingly  agreed  to 
be  the  one. 

Their  arrangements  were  soon  completed,  and  tht 
three  hunters  set  out.  They  did  not  go  straight  to* 
wards  the  place  where  Norman  had  found  the  deer 
upon  the  preceding  day,  but  took  a  cross-cut  over  the 
hills.  This  was  by  Norman's  advice,  who  guided  him- 
self by  the  wind  —  which  had  not  changed  since  the 
previous  day.  He  knew  that  the  caribou  in  feeding 
always  travel  against  the  wind ;  and  he  expected 
therefore  to  find  them  somewhere  in  the  direction 
from  which  it  was  blowing.  Following  a  course 
which  angled  with  that  of  the  wind,  they  kept  on,  ex- 
pecting soon  to  strike  the  trail  of  the  herd. 

Meanwhile  Lucien,  left  to  himself,  was  not  idle. 
He  had  to  prepare  the  flesh  of  the  different  animals, 
so  as  to  render  it  fit  to  be  carried  along.  Nothing  was 
required  further  than  to  skin  and  cut  them  up.  Nei- 
thei  sahing  nor  drying  was  necessary,  for  the  flesh  of 
one  and  all  had  got  frozen  as  stiff  as  a  stone,  and  iu 


!,( 


A  BATTLE   WITH  WOLVES. 


849 


Ihu  way  it  would  keep  during  the  whole  winter.  Th« 
wolf  was  skinned  with  the  others,  but  this  was  be:»u9e 
his  fine  skin  was  wanted.  His  flesh  was  not  intended 
to  be  eaten  —  although  only  a  day  or  two  before  any 
one  of  the  party  would  have  been  glad  of  such  a 
meal.  Not  only  the  Indians,  but  the  voyageurs  and 
fur-traders,  while  journeying  through  these  inhospita- 
ble wilds,  are  often  but  too  delighted  to  get  a  dinner  of 
wolf-meat.  The  ermine  and  the  little  mouse  were  the 
only  other  creatures  of  the  collection  that  were  deemed 
uneatable.  As  to  the  Arctic  fox  and  the  lynx,  the 
flesh  of  both  these  creatures  is  highly  esteemed,  and 
is  white  and  tender,  almost  as  much  so  as  the  hares 
upon  which  they  feed.  The  snowy  owl  too,  the  jer- 
falcon,  and  the  eagle,  were  looked  upon  as  part  of  the 
larder  —  the  flesh  of  all  being  almost  as  good  as  that 
of  the  grouse.  Had  it  been  a  fishing  eagle  —  such  aa 
the  bald-head  —  the  case  would  have  been  different, 
for  these  last,  on  account  of  their  peculiar  food,  taste 
rank  and  disagreeable.  But  there  was  no  danger  of 
their  falling  in  with  a  fishing  eagle  at  that  place. 
These  can  only  exist  where  there  is  open  water. 
Hence  the  cause  of  their  annual  migrations  to  the 
southward,  when  the  lakes  and  rivers  of  the  fur  coun- 
tries become  covered  with  their  winter  ice. 

Though  Lucien  remained  quietly  at  the  camp,  he 
was  not  without  adventures  to  keep  him  from  weary- 
ing. While  he  was  singeing  his  gi'ouse,  his  eye  hap- 
pened So  fall  upon  the  shadow  of  a  bird  passing  over 
the  snow.  On  looking  up  he  saw  a  very  large  bird, 
nearly  as  big  as  an  eagle,  flying  softly  about  in  wide 
dr  'les.    It  was  of  a  mottled-brown  color ;  but  its  short 


ftSO 


▲   BATTLE    WITH   WOLVES. 


neck  And  great  round  head  told  the  naturalist  at  a 
glance  that  it  was  a  bird  of  the  owl  genus.  It  was  the 
largest  of  the  kind  that  Lucien  had  ever  seen,  and 
was,  ill  fact,  the  largest  known  in  America— the 
"great  cinereous  owl"  (Strtx  cinerea).  Now  and 
then  it  would  alight  upon  a  rock  or  tree,  at  the  dis- 
tance of  a  hundred  yards  or  so  from  the  camp  ;  where 
it  would  watch  the  operations  of  Lucien,  evidently  in- 
clined to  help  him  in  dissecting  some  of  the  animals. 
Whenever  he  took  up  his  gun  and  tried  to  approach 
within  shot,  it  would  rise  into  the  air  again,  always 
keeping  out  of  range.  Lucien  was  provoked  at  this 
—  for  he  wished,  as  a  naturalist,  to  examine  the  bird, 
and  for  this  purpose  to  kill  it,  of  course  ;  but  the  owl 
seemed  determined  that  he  should  do  no  such  thing. 

At  length,  however,  Lucien  resolved  upon  a  plan  to 
decoy  the  creature  within  shot.  Taking  up  one  of  the 
grouse,  he  flung  it  out  upon  the  snow  some  thirty  yards 
from  the  fire.  No  sooner  had  he  done  so,  than  the 
owl,  at  sight  of  the  tempting  morsel,  left  aside  both  its 
shyness  and  prudence,  and  sailed  gently  forward ; 
then,  hovering  for  a  moment  over  the  ground,  hooked 
the  grouse  upon  its  claws,  and  was  about  to  carry  it 
off,  when  a  bullet  from  Lucien's  rifle,  just  in  the  "  nick 
of  time,"  put  a  stop  to  its  further  flight,  and  dropped 
the  creature  dead  upon  the  snow. 

Lucien  picked  it  up  and  brought  it  to  the  camp, 
where  he  passed  some  time  in  making  notes  upon  its 
size,  color,  and  other  peculiarities.  The  owl  meas- 
ured exactly  two  feet  in  length  from  the  point  of  the 
bill  to  the  end  of  the  tail ;  and  its  "  alar  spread,"  as 
naturalistft  term  it,  was  full  five  feet  in  extent.    Il 


4   BATTLE   WITH   WOLVES. 


861 


was  of  a  clove-brown  color,  beautifully  mottled  with 
white,  and  its  bill  and  eyes  were  of  a  bright  gam* 
boge  yellow.  Like  all  of  its  tribe  that  n  nter  in  the 
Arctic  wilds,  it  was  feathered  to  the  toes.  Lucien 
reflected  that  this  species  lives  more  in  the  woods 
than  the  "  great  snowy  owl,"  and,  as  he  had  heard,  is 
never  found  far  out  on  the  Barren  Grounds  during 
winter.  This  fact,  therefore,  was  a  pleasant  one  to 
reflect  upon,  for  it  confirmed  the  testimony  which  tho 
travellers  had  already  obtained  from  several  of  the 
other  creatures  they  had  killed  —  that  is  to  say,  that 
they  must  be  in  the  neighborhood  of  some  timbered 
country. 

Lucien  had  hardly  finished  his  examination  of  the 
owl,  when  he  was  called  upon  to  witness  another  iu'* 
cident  of  a  much  more  exciting  nature.  A  hill,  as 
already  mentioned,  or  rather  a  ridge,  rose  up  from 
the  opposite  shore  of  the  lake  by  which  the  camp 
was  pitched.  The  declivity  of  this  hill  fronted  the 
lake,  and  sloped  gradually  back  from  the  edge  of  the 
water.  Its  whole  face  was  smooth  and  treeless,  cov- 
ered with  a  layer  of  pure  snow.  The  camp  com- 
manded a  full  view  of  it  up  to  its  very  crest. 

As  Lucien  was  sitting  quietly  by  the  fire,  a  singu- 
lar sound,  or  rather  continuation  of  sounds,  fell  upon 
his  ear.  It  somewhat  resembled  the  baying  of  hounds 
at  a  distance ;  and  at  first  he  was  inclined  to  believe 
that  it  was  Marengo  on  a  view-hunt  after  the  deer.  On 
listening  more  attentively,  however,  he  observed  that 
the  sounds  came  from  more  j.han  one  animal ;  and 
also,  that  they  bore  more  resemblance  to  the  howling 
vi  wolves  than  the  deep-toued  bay  of  a  bloodhound. 


852 


A   BATTLE    WITH    WOLVES. 


This,  in  fact,  it  was ;  for  the  next  moment  a  caribou 
dhot  up  over  the  crest  of  the  hill,  and  was  seen 
stretching  at  full  gallop  down  the  smooth  declivity  in 
the  direction  of  the  lake.  Not  twenty  paces  in  ita 
rear  followed  a  string  of  howling  animals,  evidently 
in  pursuit  of  it.  There  were  a  dozen  of  them  in  all, 
and  they  were  running  exactly  like  hounds  upon  the 
"view  holloa."  Lucien  saw  at  a  glance  they  were 
wolves.  Most  of  them  were  dappled-gray  and  white, 
while  some  were  of  a  pure  white  color.  Any  one  of 
theiy  was  nearly  as  large  as  the  caribou  itself;  for  io 
these  parts  —  around  Great  Slave  Lake  —  the  wolf 
grows  to  his  largest  size. 

The  caribou  gained  upon  them  as  it  bounded  dowB 
the  slope  of  the  hill.  It  was  evidently  making  foi 
the  lake,  believing,  no  doubt,  that  the  black  ice  upoi. 
its  surface  was  water,  and  that  in  that  element  ii 
would  have  the  advantage  of  its  pursuers,  for  the  car* 
ibou  is  a  splendid  swimmer.  Nearly  all  deer  when 
hunted  take  to  the  watei  —  to  throw  off  the  dogs,  or 
es(^pe  from  men  —  and  to  this  habit  the  remdeer 
makes  no  exception.  * 

Down  the  hill  swept  the  chase,  Lucien  having  a 
full  view  both  of  pursuers  and  pursued.  The  deer 
ran  boldly.  It  seemed  to  have  gathered  fresh  con- 
fidence at  sight  of  the  lake,  while  the  same  object 
caused  its  pursuers  a  feeling  of  disappointment.  They 
knew  they  were  no  match  for  a  caribou  in  the  water, 
as  no  doubt  many  a  one  had  escaped  them  in  that 
element.  It  is  not  likely,  however,  that  they  made 
reflections  of  this  sort  There  was  but  little  time. 
From  the  moment  of  their  appearance  upoa  t)n  crest 


II 


A   BATTLE    WITH    WOLVES. 


868 


of  the  hill  till  the  clmse  arrived  at  the  edge  of  the 
lake,  was  but  a  few  seconds.  On  reaching  the  shore 
the  caribou  made  no  stop,  but  bounded  forward  in  tho 
same  way  as  if  it  had  been  springing  upon  water. 
Most  likely  it  expected  to  hear  a  plunge  ;  but,  instead 
of  that,  its  hoofs  came  down  upon  the  hard  ice ;  and, 
by  the  impulse  thus  given,  the  animal  shot  out  with 
the  velocity  of  a  skater.  Strange  to  say,  it  still  kept 
iii  feet;  but,  now  seemingly  overcome  by  surprise 
and  knowing  the  advantage  its  pursuers  would  havo 
over  it  upon  the  slippery  ice,  it  began  to  plunge  and 
flounder,  and  once  or  twice  came  to  its  knees.  The 
hungrv  pursuers  appeared  to  recognize  their  advan- 
tage at  once,  for  their  howling  opened  with  a  fresh 
burst,  and  they  quickened  their  pace.  Their  sharp 
claws  enabled  them  to  gallop  over  the  ice  at  top 
speed ;  and  one  large  brute  that  led  the  pack  soon 
came  up  with  the  deer,  sprang  upon  it,  and  bit  it  ir 
the  flank.  This  brought  the  deer  upon  its  haunches 
and  at  once  put  an  end  to  the  chase.  The  animal 
was  hardly  down  upon  the  ice,  when  the  foremost 
wolves  coming  up,  precipitated  themselves  upon  its 
body,  and  began  to  devour  it. 

It  was  about  the  middle  of  the  lake  where  the  cari- 
bou had  been  overtaken.  At  the  time  it  first  reached 
the  ice,  Lucien  had  laid  hold  of  his  rifle  and  run  for> 
ward  in  order  to  meet  the  animal  half  way,  and,  if 
possible,  get  a  shot  at  it.  Now  that  the  creature  was 
killed,  he  continued  on  with  the  design  of  driving  off 
the  wolves,  and  securing  the  carcass  of  the  deer  for 
himself.  He  kept  along  the  ice  until  he  was  within 
less  than  twenty  yards  of  the  pack,  whon)  seeing  that 
23 


'  I 


354 


A   BATTLE    WITH    WOLVES. 


the  fierce  brjtes  had  torn  the  deer  to  pieces,  and  per 
ceiving,  moreover,  that  they  exhibited  no  fear  of 
himself,  he  began  to  think  he  might  be  in  danger  by 
advancing  any  nearer.  Perhaps  a  sliot  from  his  rifle 
would  scatter  them,  and  without  further  reflection  he 
raised  the  piece,  and  fired.  One  of  the  wolves  kicked 
over  upon  the  ice,  and  lay  quite  dead ;  but  the  oiaers, 
to  Lucien's  great  surprise,  instead  of  being  frightened 
off,  immediately  sprang  upon  their  dead  companion, 
and  commenced  tearing  and  devouring  it,  just  as  they 
had  done  the  deer ! 

The  idght  filled  Lucien  with  alarm ;  which  was 
increaseoi  at  seeing  several  of  the  wolves  —  that  had 
been  beaten  by  the  others  from  the  quarry  —  com- 
mence making  demonstrations  tow^ards  himself!  Lu- 
cien now  trembled  for  his  safety,  and  no  wonder.  Ho 
was  near  the  middle  of  the  lake  upon  slippery  ice. 
To  attempt  running  back  to  the  camp  would  be  haz- 
ardous ;  the  wolves  could  overtake  him  before  he  had 
got  half  way,  and  he  felt  certain  that  any  signs  of  fear 
on  his  part  would  be  the  signal  for  the  fierce  brutes  to 
assail  him. 

For  some  moments  he  was  irresolute  how  to  act. 
He  had  commenced  loading  his  gun,  but  his  fingers 
were  numbed  with  the  cold,  and  it  was  a  good  while 
before  he  could  get  the  piece  ready  for  a  second  fire. 
He  succeeded  at  length.  He  did  not  fire  :hen,  but 
resolved  to  keep  the  charge  for  a  more  desperate 
crisis.  Could  he  but  reach  the  camp  there  were  trees 
near  it,  and  one  of  these  he  might  climb.  This  was 
his  only  hope,  in  case  the  wolves  attacked  him,  and  he 
knew  it  was.  Instead  of  turning  and  running  for  this 
point,  he  began  to  back  for  it  stealthily  and  with  cau- 


l\ 


A    BATTLE    WITH   WOLVES. 


85d 


ti  3n,  keeping  his  front  all  the  while  towards  the  wolves, 
and  his  eyes  fixed  upon  them.  He  had  net  got  many 
yards,  when  he  perceived  to  his  horor,  that  the  whole 
pack  were  in  motion,  mid  comt  •<^  after  him  !  It  was 
a  terrible  sight,  and  Lucien,  seomg  that  by  retreating 
he  only  drew  them  on,  stopped  and  held  his  rifle  in  f* 
threatening  attitude.  The  wolves  were  now  withio 
twenty  yards  of  him ;  but,  instead  of  moving  any  longer 
directly  towards  him,  they  broke  into  two  lines,  swept 
past  on  opposite  sides  of  him,  and  then  circling  round, 
met  each  other  in  his  rear.     His  retreat  was  cut  off! 

He  now  stood  upon  the  ice  with  the  fierce  wolves 
forming  a  ring  around  him,  whose  diameter  was  not 
the  six  lengths  of  his  gun,  and  every  moment  growing 
shorter  and  shorter.  The  prospect  was  appalling.  It 
would  have  caused  the  stoutest  heart  to  quail,  and 
Lucien's  was  terrified.  He  shouted  at  the  top  of  his 
voice.  He  fired  his  rifle  at  the  nearest.  The  brute 
fell,  but  the  others  showed  no  symptoms  of  fear ;  they 
only  grew  more  furious.  Lucien  clubbed  his  gun  — 
the  last  resort  in  such  cases  —  and  laid  around  him 
with  all  his  might ;  but  he  was  in  danger  of  slipping 
upon  the  ice,  and  his  etforts.  weie  feeble.  Once  down 
he  never  would  have  risen  again,  for  his  fierce  assail- 
ants would  have  sprung  upon  him  like  tigers.  As  it 
was,  he  felt  but  little  hope.  He  believed  himself  lost. 
The  teeth  of  the  ferocious  monsters  gleamed  under  his 
eyes.  He  was  growing  weaker  and  weaker,  yet  stilj 
he  battled  on,  and  swept  his  gun  around  him  with  the 
energy  of  despair. 

Such  a  struggle  could  not  have  continued  much 
longer.  Lucieu's  fate  would  have  been  sealed  in  a 
very  few  mmutes  more,  had  not  relief  arrived  in  somv 


556 


A    BATTLE   WITH    WOLVES. 


Bliape  or  other.  But  it  did  come.  A  loud  shout  was 
heard  upon  the  hill ;  and  Lucien,  glancing  suddenly 
towards  it,  saw  several  forms  rushing  downward  to  the 
lake !  It  was  the  hunting  party  returned,  and  in  a 
moment  more  they  were  crossing  the  ice  to  his  rescue. 
Lucien,  gaining  confidence,  fought  with  fresh  vigor. 
The  wolves,  busy  in  their  attack,  had  either  not  heard 
or  were  regardless  of  the  new-comers ;  but  the  "  crack, 
crack  "  of  the  guns  —  repeated  no  less  than  four  times 
—  and  then  the  nearer  reports  of  pistols,  made  a 
speedy  impression  upon  the  brutes,  and  in  a  short 
while  half  their  number  were  seen  tumbling  and  kick- 
ing upon  the  ice.  The  rest,  uttering  their  hideous 
howls,  took  to  flight,  and  soon  disappeared  from  the 
valley ;  and  Lucien,  half  dead  with  fatigue,  staggered 
into  the  arms  of  his  deliverers. 

No  less  than  seven  of  the  wolves  were  killed  in  the 
affray  —  two  of  which  Lucien  had  shot  himself. 
One  or  two  were  only  wounded,  but  so  badly,  that 
they  .ould  not  get  away ;  and  these  were  handed  over 
to  the  tender  mercies  of  Marengo,  who  amused  him 
self  ft  r  some  time  after  by  worrying  them  to  death, 

Th'j  hunting  party  had  made  a  good  day  of  it. 
They  had  fallen  in  with  the  caribou,  and  had  killed 
thn-e  of  them.  These  they  were  bringing  to  camp, 
but  had  dropped  them  upon  the  hill,  on  perceiving  the 
perilous  position  of  Lucien.  They  now  went  back, 
and  having  carried  the  deer  to  their  camping  place, 
were  soon  engaged  in  the  pleasant  occupation  oi  eat- 
ing a  savory  dinner.  Lucien  soon  recovered  from  his 
fright  and  fatigue,  and  amused  his  companions  by  giv- 
ujg  an  account  of  the  adventures  that  had  befallen 
him  in  their  absence. 


,'■  t 


SMD   OP  THE  *  VOTAOE." 


857 


CHAITER  XXXIX. 

END  OF  THE  "VOYAGE." 


Oi'B  party  remained  several  dajs  at  this  place, 
ttntil  they  had  made  a  fresh  stock  of  "  pemmican " 
from  the  flesh  of  the  caribou,  several  more  of  which 
they  succeeded  in  killing ;  and  then,  arranging  every 
thing  anew,  and  taking  with  them  such  skins  as  they 
wanted,  they  continued  their  journey. 

They  had  two  days'  hard  travelling  through  a  rocky 
mountainous  country,  where  they  could  not  find  a 
stick  of  wood  to  cook  their  meals  with,  and  were  ex- 
posed to  cold  more  than  at  any  other  place.  Both  Fran- 
9ois  and  Lucien  had  their  faces  frost-bitten ;  but  they 
were  cured  by  Norman,  who  prevented  them  from 
going  near  a  fire,  until  he  had  well  rubbed  the  parts 
with  soft  snow. 

The  rocks  through  which  they  passed  were  in  many 
places  covered  with  the  tripe  de  roche  (Gyrophora) 
of  several  species  ;  but  our  voyageurs  cared  nothing 
about  it  so  long  as  their  pemmican  lasted,  and  of  thai 
each  of  them  had  nearly  as  much  as  he  could  cany. 

In  the  most  dreary  part  of  the  mountains  they 
chanced  upon  a  herd  of  those  curious  animals,  the 
musk  oxen,  and  shot  one  of  them;  but  the  meat 
tasted  so  rank,  and  smelt  so  strongly  of  musk,  that  the 
whole  of  it  was  left  to  the  wolves,  foxes,  and  otbef 
preying  creatures  of  these  parts. 


■■M 


553 


EOT)    OP   THE  "VOTAOE." 


On  the  third  day,  after  leaving  their  camp  by  tha 
lake,  a  pleasant  prospect  opened  before  them.  It  was 
the  valley  of  the  JMackenzie,  stretching  to  the  west, 
and  extending  north  and  souths  as  far  as  the  eye  could 
reach,  covered  with  foi-ests  of  pine  and  poplar,  and 
other  large  trees.  Of  course  the  landscape  was  a 
winter  one,  as  the  river  was  bound  up  in  ice,  and  the 
trees  themselves  were  half  white  with  frozen  snow ; 
but  after  the  dreary  scenery  of  the  Barren  Grounds, 
even  this  appeared  warm  and  summer-like.  There 
was  no  longer  any  danger  they  should  be  without  a 
good  fire  to  cook  their  dinners,  or  warm  themselves 
at,  and  a  wooded  country  offers  a  better  prospect  of 
game.  The  sight,  therefore,  of  a  great  forest  was 
cheering ;  and  our  travellers,  in  high  spirits,  planted 
their  tent  upon  the  banks  of  the  great  northern  river. 
They  had  still  many  hundred  miles  to  go  before 
arriving  at  their  destination ;  but  they  determined  to 
sontinue  their  journey  without  much  delay,  following 
the  river  as  a  guide.  No  more  "  near  cuts  "  were  to 
be  taken  in  future.  They  had  learned  from  their 
recent  experience  that  "  the  shortest  way  across  is 
sometimes  the  longest  way  round,"  and  they  resolved 
to  profit  by  the  lesson.  I  hope,  boy  reader,  you  too 
will  remember  it. 

After  reaching  the  Mackenzie  the  voyageurs  halt- 
ed one  day,  and  upon  the  next  commenced  their 
journey  down  stream.  Sometimes  they  kept  upon 
tho  bank,  but  at  times,  for  a  change,  they  travelled 
upon  the  ice  of  the  river.  There  was  no  danger  of 
its  giving  way  under  them,  for  it  was  moi'e  than  a 
foot  in  thickness,  and  would  have  supported  a  loaded 
wagon  and  horses,  wit'uuut  even  cracking, 


u 


END    OF    THE  "VOTAGK.'' 


i) 


359 


rhey  were  now  drawing  near  the  Arctic  circle, 
and  the  days  grew  shorter  and  shorter  as  they  ad- 
vanced. But  this  did  not  much  interfere  with  their 
travelling.  The  long  nights  of  the  polar  regions  are 
not  like  those  of  more  southern  latitudes.  They  are 
Bometimes  so  clear  that  one  may  read  the  smallest 
print.  What  with  the  coruscations  of  the  aurora 
borealis,  and  the  cheerful  gleaming  of  tlie  northern  con- 
stellations, one  may  travel  without  difficulty  through* 
out  the  livelong  night.  I  am  sure,  my  young  friend, 
you  have  made  good  use  of  your  globes,  and  need  not 
be  told  that  the  length  of  both  nights  and  days,  as 
you  approach  the  pole,  depends  upon  two  things  — 
the  latitude  of  the  place,  and  the  season  of  the  year ; 
and  were  you  to  spend  a  whole  year  leaning  againti 
the  pole  itself,  (/)  you  would  live  but  one  day  and  one 
night  —  each  of  them  six  months  in  length. 

But  no  doubt  you  know  all  these  things  without  my 
telling  you  of  them,  and  you  are  im[)atient  to  hear, 
not  about  that,  but  whether  the  young  voyageurs  ^fely 
reached  the  end  of  their  journey.  That  question  I 
answer  briefly  at  once  —  they  did. 

Some  distance  below  the  point  where  they  had 
struck  the  Mackenzie,  they  fell  in  with  a  winter  en- 
campment of  Dog-rib  Indians.  Some  of  these  people 
had  been  to  the  Fort  to  trade;  and  Norman  being 
known  to  them,  he  and  his  Southern  cousins  were 
received  with  much  hospitality.  All  their  wants  were 
provided  for,  as  far  as  it  lay  in  the  power  of  these 
poor  people  to  do ;  but  the  most  valuable  thing  ob- 
tained from  the  Indians  was  a  full  set  of  dogs  and 
dog-sledges  for  the  whole  party.    These  were  furnished 


860 


END   OF  THE  "VOYAGE.* 


by  the  chief,  upon  the  understanding  that  he  should 
be  paid  for  them  on  his  next  visit  to  the  Fort.  AU 
though  the  reindeer  of  North  America  are  not  trained 
to  the  sledge  by  the  Esquimaux  and  Indians,  severa] 
kinds  of  dogs  are ;  and  a  single  pair  of  these  faithful 
creatures  will  draw  a  full-grown  man  at  a  rate  that 
exceeds  almost  every  other  mode  of  traveUing  — 
steam  excepted.  When  our  voyageurs,  therefore, 
flung  away  their  snow-shoes,  and,  wrapped  in  their 
fikin  cloaks,  seated  themselves  snugly  in  their  dog- 
eledges,  the  five  hundred  miles  that  separated  them 
from  the  Fort  were  soon  reduced  to  nothing ;  and  one 
afternoon,  four  small  sledges,  each  carrying  a  "  young 
voyageur,"  with  a  large  bloodhound  galloping  in  the 
rear,  were  seen  driving  up  to  the  stockade  fence  sur- 
rounding the  Fort  Before  they  had  quite  reached 
the  gate,  there  was  a  general  rush  of  trappers,  traders, 
voyageurs,  coureurs-des-bots,  and  other  employes  to 
reach  them,  and  the  next  moment  they  were  lost  in 
the  midst  of  the  people  who  crowded  out  of  the  Fort 
to  welcome  them.  This  was  their  hour  of  happinesa 
and  joy. 

To  me  there  is  an  hour  of  regret,  and  I  hope,  boy 
reader,  to  you  as  well — the  hour  of  our  parting  with 
tli«  "  Young  Votaoeuba." 


I 


